BITE ME, MY ALPHA

CHAPTER FOUR

Lyra’s pov

The morning came quickly. I woke before the rooster, which never happened, and lay there listening to the house breathe. We were poor, but I never let that stop me from believing in the beauty of the world.

I took my bath, brushed my hair, and braided it, curling a few strands to the front and plaiting the rest into two. I smoothed the front of my dress twice before I left the room, then a third time in the doorway.

"Good morning, family," I said to my parents and the few siblings already at the table.

Mother's eyes flickered over me. "Someone looks happy."

I twirled to show off the dress I had recently made by hand. The hem swung out around my knees, and the little ones giggled. "Notice anything new?"

"Ouuu," Sophia said, dragging the sound out until I laughed.

"You look beautiful." Mother smiled. She set down her spoon. "What's making you so excited?"

Sophia leaned toward me with a grin, studying me from the side. "Yes, what's happening?"

"Uhm." I stuttered, tugging at the end of one braid. "I don't know. I think something good is going to happen soon."

"Oh my, your cheeks are plump and red." Mother tilted her head and looked closer.

"Mother, she's wearing makeup," Sophia said, pointing at my cheek. Her eyes asked questions her lips didn't, and for a moment she looked almost unsure of me.

"Are you in love?" Mother asked.

"No." I stayed silent for a bit. The word came out softer than I meant it to. "We have to stay hopeful, no matter what situation we are in. Right, family?"

"That's right," Mother said. She held my gaze a second longer than she needed to, then went back to her porridge.

I took a piece of pancake from the table and danced my way out to start the day's chores. It was still warm in my hand, and I ate it in three bites before I reached the yard.

The air was sharp and clean, the way it only is in the early hours, and my breath hung in front of me as I crossed to the farmhouse. I went straight in to tend the animals. First I fed the chickens and packed the fresh eggs. The hens muttered and shuffled around my feet, and I counted the eggs twice, because counting made me feel like I was in control of something.

Just then my eyes caught it, tucked against the far wall: a badly wounded animal.

It looked like a wild one. The wound was burned and bloody, the skin around it blackened, as if something had eaten at it from the inside. I presumed it had run from the forest where it was hurt.

For a moment I was terrified. Wild animals are a handful, so I turned away and went back to my work. I made it as far as the water bucket.

But I could hear its silent squeaks, the groaning of something in pain. I couldn't look away. Luckily for me, I knew herbal medicine, and it had worked well on the animals I'd tended before. I stood there with the bucket handle cutting into my fingers, arguing with myself.

I thought: I will hide it in the barn and care for it for a while, and when it gets better, I will let it go.

I brought out an old sheet and dragged the animal onto it. It was so heavy that I staggered with every step. My arms burned, and twice I had to stop and press my hands against my knees to breathe. It never once snapped at me. It only watched me with half-open eyes, as if it understood I was trying.

I made a bed from dried wood and scraps of cloth. I tucked the edges in carefully so nothing would scratch it, then sat back on my heels and looked at what I'd made. It wasn't much, but it was soft.

I mixed up the herbs and cleaned the wound before applying them. The wound was unlike anything I'd ever seen. My stomach tightened as I worked, and I kept my touch light. I could only imagine how painful it was. I took a clean piece of cloth and wrapped it around the injury to hold the medicine in place. When I finished, its breathing seemed to slow, just a little, and I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding.

The day went by quickly. We had dinner the way we always did, crowded around the table, the little ones talking over each other, Father quiet at the end of it. We chatted for a while before everyone went to bed.

I was about to head to my room when it came to me that the animal might be hungry. I stood in the hallway for a moment, my hand on the door frame, then turned back toward the kitchen.

I searched through the kitchen for something a wild animal of that sort could eat. Definitely meat. We only had some leftover chicken, and it was meant for tomorrow's lunch.

"Hmmm." I thought for a while. I stood over the dish with my arms crossed, listening for footsteps. "I doubt she'll notice, and if she does, I'll just say I had it when I was hungry."

I took two pieces out and carried them to the barn. I held them wrapped in a cloth against my chest, as if they were something precious, and kept my steps quiet on the way across the yard.

Walking in, I couldn't find the animal on the bed I'd made for it.

"Oh no." It had probably been scared and run off. I looked at the dent left in the cloth, still warm when I touched it. Whatever had been there had left only moments ago. I poked my head out the door, looking to see if it could be nearby, since it had been so weak when I brought it in. The yard was empty, silver and still under the moon, and nothing moved but the wind in the dry grass.

Suddenly, I felt a warm sensation behind me. It was hot, close enough to touch the back of my neck, and my breath stopped in my throat.

I turned around and found a naked man.