The Two Alphas' Fated Witch

Memory Lane

"Slow down! Holy hells, you realize you'll get us pulled over speeding like this, right?!" Not to mention we left my stomach about ten miles back.

"And you realize that all I have to do is flash my ID and any officer would end up escorting us, rather than ticketing us? Plus, this is a sports car. It's meant to be driven like this."

To prove his point, Joey floors the black Mustang's accelerator, pushing us up another ten miles per hour. A shriek comes from my throat involuntarily, and I turn to Eric for some help. But the i***t's just smiling, enjoying the scenery flying by his window.

I lean back in my seat and clutch the seatbelt frantically. At least we'll be there sooner, rather than later. Turns out that log cabin is only fifteen minutes away from the Santiagos'. Which makes sense; there are countless acres of forest throughout this part of the city. A log cabin in any part of this dense foliage wouldn't draw that much attention, and Eric had said it's their home away from the Pack. I guess only a few people even know they own that place, hence how I was kept secret for three whole days.

A sharp turn forces me back to the metal torpedo I'm in. I shut my eyes and try to focus on the plan for once we get there, but that just makes me more carsick. Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. In. Out. In.

My mental mantra is interrupt by the car slowing down slightly. I relax a bit and look out the window to see we're almost there. Only three more farms to go before the Santiagos'. As the first apple tree comes into view, I can't help but smile. Coming here always feels like coming home. This place has only ever given me good memories. Sledding through the orchards in winter. Eating empanadas on game night. Arguing over which movie to watch. The laughter, the smiles, and the joy were all thanks to that colonial farmhouse, painted all sorts of colors just because it could be, and the family that's lived here for three generations now. Carlos Santiago, the kind, honest head of the family, has lived here all his life, and worked in its orchards since he could pick an apple. His wife, Rosa, is his perfect match. I look up to her in so many ways. They're two children, Dylan and Cassie, have been my best friends since Cassie and I were in kindergarten, when she punched a boy in our class for calling me a hippo. She got quite the scolding that day, but because of that black eye, these amazing people became a part of my life. They made it bearable.

"This is it, right?" Joey asks, cutting off my trip down memory lane.

I nod. "Yep. You can pull up behind that snow plow. That's where I usually park."

Eric whistles low. "This is quite the place they have here. A bit of a fixer upper, and they should really decide what color they want the house, but not too bad."

"That's actually a bit of an inside joke" I happily explain. "When we were kids, Mrs. Santiago asked us what color we should paint the house. Dylan said green, Cassie said pink, and I said purple. It started a little feud between all of us, and we didn't talk for a whole week. Then, one day, Mr. Santiago handed us each a brush and a paint can with the color of our choosing. When we looked up at him with our confused faces, he simply said 'Well, she ain't gonna paint herself. ¡Vaminos!' We each picked different parts to paint, and thus the house became the collage you see today."

Joey parks the car while listening to my story. "That's cute and all, but there's no way that paint has withstood like that for all these years."

"Mr. Santiago refuses to paint it any other way. He says it gives the place character."

"It gives it something, alright."

I ignore Eric's comment and get out of the car. The sun's already starting to set this time of year, and it's a bit windy. But I don't care. I stretch a little, enjoying both the breeze blowing through me and the ground that has finally stopped moving.

"You sure you aren't cold? It's freezing out here!" Eric curls further into his plush winter jacket, shivering a little.

"I thought werewolves didn't get cold?" I smirk at him in my thin long sleeve tee and zip-up hoodie, which is currently open. "Besides, it's not that cold."

"That is a common misconception" he replies, shivering as another gust rolls through. "Also, you're insane."

"That, and I'm well insulated." I pat my extended abdomen and jerk my head towards the front door. "You two ready?"

The two guys walk up to me together. Eric has this strange look on his face, but Joey simply replies "Lead the way."

I do, though with a small amount of hesitation. This may be the first time I've ever been nervous to come to this place. It feels like I'm about to introduce my boyfriends to my family.

No, they aren't my boyfriends. This relationship isn't real. It's something we have to fix. Not sure how, yet, but this is definitely just temporary. I sigh. No, these guys were just two nice men who helped me out. That's the story we agreed to, anyways. My car broke down, they found me slumped over in the driver's seat due to a fainting episode, and I woke up three days later. A little farfetched, but not nearly as bad as reality. Plus, it's not a complete lie. We're just omitting a few essential details.

Suddenly, as I'm walking up the porch steps, the front door swings open and a tall, blonde, and thin young woman launches herself at me. "Holy hells, Ali! What took you so long, b***h?!"

I hug my best friend back, as hard as I can. Gods, I missed this girl. "I'm sorry, Cassie. I know we're late, but there is apparently someone in this world that takes longer than you in getting ready."

"Hey, not all of us are fine with just a ponytail and sweats. Some if us actually like to look good."

I roll my eyes at Eric's comment, but my focus is brought back to Cassie as I feel her tense up. I disentangle myself from her arms and examine her facial expression. "What is it?"

Her eyes are locked onto Joey and Eric, with utter shock. It takes her a few seconds before she finally speaks, but her gaze never leaves those two. "Ali, why are the two richest, most gorgeous men in the country in my front yard?"