A Harsh Twist of Reality

“Aubrey! I know you better be up!” My mother’s voice ripped up the stairs like a whip crack, jerking me awake so fast the room spun. I pushed up from my pillow, heart pounding, instantly aware of the disappointment in her tone. And I deserved it; I had promised her I’d wake up early to help clean before the party tonight. Winter break had my schedule wrecked, and of course I’d forgotten to set an alarm. My eyes darted to the glowing red numbers on my clock. 10:00. Perfect. Exactly what I needed. Mom furious and the day already half gone. I scrambled out of bed, shouting down that I’d be right there. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and grimaced. Yuck. I looked like the ghost of bad decisions, tangled brown hair, crusted eyes, pillow lines stamped across my cheek. I scraped the sleep from my lashes, dragged a brush through the chaos, and twisted it into a messy bun that looked barely intentional. Anything remotely clean and comfortable became my outfit, leggings and a baggy T-shirt. Sneakers on, breath questionable, dignity minimal. I headed toward the bathroom, determined to fix my mouth before anyone suffered, when I caught something in the corner of my eye. Across the hall, my brother’s door was slightly ajar. And he was absolutely sucking face with Lexi, his new conquest, on his bed. Gross. I blinked. Once. Twice. Nope, still happening. The door should’ve been shut, but apparently, they needed oxygen about twice per decade, so they hadn’t noticed me. I cleared my throat dramatically, leaning into my sisterly menace. “I’m telling Mom!” I shouted. Andrew’s eyes snapped open, icy blue daggers locking onto me. If looks could kill, I’d have dropped right there on the carpet. “You wouldn’t dare,” he hissed. “Or I’ll tell Mom what I saw you and Morgan doing the other night.” His glare softened, teasing. Andrew always played tough but never meant it with me. I smirked. “If you’re not downstairs in ten minutes, you bet I will.” I walked away laughing, and behind me I heard a faint, begrudging, “Love you too, sis,” before the click of the door. I made it downstairs before realizing I had forgotten to brush my teeth. I spun on my heel, but too late. Mom had already caught me. Damn. “Finally,” she exhaled, exhaustion written in every line of her face. Her soft blonde hair was yanked into a bun just like mine, and her normally piercing blue eyes looked duller today, weighed down with stress. “What can I do?” I asked, completely abandoning the idea of brushing my teeth. “I need you to go find your father.” The frustration was there, thinly veiled but sharp. So he had gone on another bender last night. “Don’t worry,” I murmured, stepping close and resting my hand on her shoulder. “He’s probably in the same place he always is. I’ll find him.” Mom squeezed my arm. “Aubrey… tonight is important. More than you know.” Her eyes lingered on me too long. Too knowingly. I frowned, but she turned away before I could ask. Her expression softened just enough to break my heart. She kissed my cheek before moving on to the next task, leaving me with the familiar ache of wishing I could do more for her. My father hadn’t always been like this. Once, he was the True Alpha, a powerful leader respected by every clan. His stubborn dream of unity was the reason the four clans finally found peace. His voice carried weight. His presence inspired loyalty. But when his younger brother challenged him, everything fell apart. Dad stepped down rather than destroy the family, knowing he was too old to fight — fifteen years older than his brother and far past his prime. Andrew never forgave him. The pack changed. The world he built crumbled. In that rubble, my father found comfort at the bottom of a bottle. I always blamed Andrew a little — unfairly, I knew — but the truth was simpler, I missed who Dad used to be. And I was terrified he was disappearing for good. I reached the living room and pulled out my phone to call Austin, the so-called love of my life. We have been dating for two years now. Him not finding his mate after his first shift had made staying together easy. I hoped that after my shift, the moons would align and we would officially be forever, without the thought of something or someone getting in the way. “Hey babe,” his rusty, warm voice answered. It sounded tired, like he hadn’t slept at all. “I need your help,” I admitted. “My dad didn’t come home again. Mom’s a mess. Can you take me to Louies?” “Be there in five.” The call ended. Setting my phone on the counter, I sighed. Just like that — no hesitation, no questions. Always reliable. Always steady. Austin was simple that way: easy smiles, quick decisions, no drama. Quicker then I imagined, his black Challenger rumbled into the driveway and I ran outside, having forgotten my phone on the counter. I slid into the slick leather passenger seat, inhaling the familiar scent of him. Wood pine and mint. “Well, doesn’t the birthday girl look astonishing today,” he teased, flashing that perfect grin. His warm brown eyes had their usual softness this morning, and his brown hair had begun to curl at the ends — taunting my fingers to play with them. He looked good — Bon Jovi shirt stretched over his chest, jeans ripped at the knees, worn Converse tapping lightly against the pedal. God, I was lucky. “Oh hush,” I smirked. “It’s just another day.” A lie. Today was the last day of being normal before my transformation. “We need to go into town,” I said, shifting in my seat. “I’m almost positive Louie has my dad.” Louie’s bar had become Dad’s second home it felt. A place where washed-up wolves clung to nostalgia like it could resurrect their former glory. Louie, bless him, always promised to keep Dad safe enough to be found in the morning. As we drove, Austin took my hand, the silence between us warm and steady. Until his phone rang. I glanced sideways at the name who flashed across his screen. Carmon. My gut tightened. Carmon had made it a habit to call Austin rather frequently in the last few weeks. Jealousy slid under my ribs like a thin blade. He declined the call instantly — too instantly. As if reading my mind, “She wants me to look at her car,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road. “I told her no. You know Carmon — she doesn’t take no easily.” His tone was dry. Casual. Believable. But something in me whispered liar. I looked out the window, trees blurring by, trying to swallow the unease clawing up my spine. Soon, Louie’s bar came into view, the first building in town. A small, run-down wooden structure with its neon sign mostly burnt out. Only a few letters glowed now. L I E S. The irony punched me straight in the chest. Austin parked in front. I had just unbuckled my seatbelt when Louie stepped out, hauling my father like dead weight. And the day — already heavy — suddenly felt darker. Louie emerged from underneath the awning, half-dragging my father like a burden he was growing tired of carrying. My breath hitched. My father looked awful. Once, my dad was a giant, six-foot-two of muscle, strength, and quiet authority. His presence used to fill rooms. His forest-green eyes once glowed with intensity. His dark hair used to shine like obsidian when the sun hit it. Now, he looked like a ghost dragging his own body around. His clothes were damp, clinging to him. I couldn’t tell if it was spilled beer, sweat, or something worse. His hair had thinned and grayed. His skin was leathered and hollow. His powerful frame had shrunk, eaten away by alcohol and regret. The man I once respected, now gone. Shame, grief, and anger twisted inside me. Austin and I grabbed him, bracing ourselves. “Hey kiddo”, my dad slewed at me. The smell hit me instantly — sour alcohol and decay. I held my breath as we hoisted him into the backseat, shoving him carefully into the passenger side. A low moan escaped him, weak and unclear. I couldn’t tell if he was dreaming or hurting. Maybe both. Maybe neither. For the first time today, I didn’t care. He had chosen this path. Yet, he was still my father. I slammed the seat back into place and muttered a quick “Thanks” to Louie before Austin pulled away. “Ill be seeing you tonight.” he responded, as he walked back into his bar. Right. Tonight. My party. Once on the road, I found myself lost in thought. I wished there was someway for me to restore my dads honor in the pack. I still never understood why me uncle had decided to challenge him. The two brothers had been thick as thieves growing up. My mom always said that it would make sense one day. “Let it be and one day ill foretell the truth.” My mother. She must still be worried out of her mind. I reached for my back pocket, reaching for my phone, when I realized I had left it on the counter at home. “Babe, can I use your phone?” I asked, already leaning over to grab it. “I think I left mine at home. I want to let Mom know we found him.” “Sure,” he said, never looking away from the rode. I typed in his password — the same one he’d had forever. Incorrect. I frowned. Tried again. Incorrect. “Did you change your password?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. Still calm — annoyingly calm — he took the phone, typed something, and handed it back. “Yeah. My little brother kept messing with it.” He didn’t look at me when he said it. Didn’t smile. Didn’t explain. I swallowed, trying to dismiss the knot of unease tightening in my chest. Maybe I was paranoid. Maybe today was already too much. Maybe it was nothing. I looked down to dial my mom’s number. A message appeared across the top of his screen like it was timed for maximum destruction. Carmon: “Thanks for last night ❤️” And right behind it— “It’ll stay our little secret.” My pulse stopped.