EPISODE 17
1250 Words
Alpha Xavier’s POV
I’m no stranger to death. I become familiar with its gnashing nature quite young—in the dark cages of the packhouse dungeon where father traps outcasts found around our pack borders. Some are even kids who know nothing about the bad blood in this terrain.
I see things no child should see, and I am forced to do things that haunt me to this very day.
Zakar says it's not our fault, but it's my hand that’s tainted, not his. He’ll never understand what it means to never shut your eyes to sleep because of ghosts haunting you.
It's been over fifteen years since I sleep without drugs that prevent dreams, and last night on the border between death and life, I become prey to the ghosts.
Their voices, their footsteps, their cries loom over me like a cloud of fire. I should run, but I’m tired and willing to let it go. If death means freedom, then so be it.
I stay still, my hands covering my ears and my eyes shut tight—just as I do in the cages years ago. Their voices grow louder and the heat intensifies until my skin starts to melt.
“Xavier!”
My body starts to shake, but it's not of my own doing. Someone shakes me violently, crying out my name.
I dare open my eyes and I’m staring at a thatched roof with gaps allowing rays of sunlight in.
A pink-faced blonde is by my side, watching me on her knees. “You're awake.” She gasps with relief, my chest rising and falling heavily.
“Are those tears?” I tease, although my head is banging with a terrible ache.
She frowns and shakes her head, her hands flying to wipe the tears from her face. “You almost died.”
“Hmm, I didn't know you cared that much.” I tease further, her growing annoyance acting as a pain relief to me.
She rises from her knees to stand, but I turn to grab her hand. A groan slips out of my lips as the slight movement wrecks a wave of excruciating pain all over my torso. It feels like I am hit by a heavy-duty truck.
“Stay still.” She hisses, pulling her hand away from my loosened grip.
I watch her walk to a clay pot being heated on a bonfire. Whatever she's preparing smells horrible, but I’m in no place to complain.
She walks back to me with a squeezed expression and pouted lips. She looks animated whenever she's annoyed; it makes me want to provoke her.
The drink is boiling hot, and I can feel it burn my tongue as soon as I take a sip. It tastes even more horrible than it looks, but with Dr Winter hovering around me like a mother hawk, I have no choice but to drink it to the last drop.
“So are you going to tell me why you went to an illegal fight club and tried suicide?” She snaps, crossing her arms. Her face has grown from pink to red. Tears are still welling in her eyes, and I’m both sad and shocked that the Doctor cares about my life or death.
I heave a heavy sigh and grunt as I force my broken body to sit up straight. “No, and I’ll appreciate if we can keep this between us.”
“But…” she stutters and then bites her bottom lip. Raina does the same. I scoff as I remember how I see Raina right above me when I think I will die.
It must have been Dr Winter.
“It's dangerous.” She says with a little voice.
“I can handle my business Doctor.” I say, putting on my ripped shirt. Our eyes meet and I smirk. “But don't bother, darling, I can't die.”
She shakes her head and glares at me. “You were an inch away from dying. In fact…” Her eyes lower again. “There was a moment I thought I had lost you.”
She looks so sad, I feel like holding her like I do in the garden.
Is she bipolar? One minute she hates me so much she can't stand my existence, and the next minute she’s so angry and hurt about me nearly dying.
Regardless of my confusing thoughts, I hold her hand. She grimaces and jerks her hand back, but I cling onto it. “Thank you so much, Dr Winter.”
“You can't come out here again.” She breaks out. “It's a miracle you survived.”
I nod my head, although I know I might not be able to keep that promise. “You're a miracle. I’m not shocked I survived.”
She smiles and tears roll down her cheeks, glistening under the rays. She's ethereal, and I know she thinks I’m joking about the ‘miracle’ thing. I haven't made a truer statement in all my life.
My hand moves to her chin to stop her tear before it drops. Sparks flow through my fingers as I graze her skin. Our eyes meet and the world goes quiet.
“You called me a name before you blacked out.” She says, her eyes softening. “You called me…”
“I’m sorry.” My heart thumps heavily as I rise to my feet. “I don't remember anything much from last night. Probably meant nothing.”
She swallows and lowers her gaze to her intertwining fingers. “Sure.” She sniffs and then stands up. “Don't mind me.”
I remember what I say, but it's better I keep the name of the loudest ghost haunting me away from Dr Winter and everyone else.
Raina is no one’s business. She's my cross to carry, and not a mere story to tell.
“You should rest more.” Dr Winter cautions as I make my way out of the farm shed.
“I’ll be fine. We have to get back to the packhouse for the party.”
“Party?” Her brows lift. I pick up my black cloak and fold it into the box.
“Yes.” I say, sighing. “I wanted to tell you earlier, but…” I shrug. “You must attend.”
She shakes her head. “I have to stay with Kael in the hospital.”
“He’ll be fine.” I protest. “You haven't left his side for seven days. Cut yourself some slack, Doctor.”
She looks at me, considering.
“I owe you a dance anyways. It's the least I can do for my life-saver.” I add.
She chuckles and rolls her eyes. “I’m a terrible dancer and I hate parties.”
I reach to hold her hand and give her a twirl. “Not so bad.”
She laughs out, her voice ringing like a melody to my ears.
“But seriously, you’ll love it.” I say. “Trust me.”
She hesitates and then looks up to meet my eyes.
“You can trust me.” I say again, and this time around she listens and nods.
“Just one dance.” She says. “One dance and I’m heading back to the hospital.”
I do a curtsy. “Whatever you say, my lady.”
She breaks into another round of laughter and we walk out into the fields, hand-in-hand.
- Writer
