Alphess: An Angel of Death

Questions

I have never been a weak, defenseless woman in my entire life. I have always felt powerful, in control, able to take on the world. I have never felt helpless, save one time in my life when my own mother helped decide my fate. When she gave the go ahead to cast me out as a rogue, I had never felt so desperately alone. I remember as she helped to hold me down, tears in her eyes, as General Graves sliced through my pack brand with silver-tipped claws. I had refused to cry, but the hole that opened up in my heart at that moment was excruciating. I was powerless in the face of the accusations, and I could do absolutely nothing but bite my cheek and wait for the pain to be over. That introduction to silver had burned, but luckily was short lived. Unlike now, where the constant contact heightened my senses to the pain and refused to ease its grip on me.

            Even that day, the first and only other day in my life I had felt powerless, paled in comparison to how I felt right now. It wasn’t the silver cuffs that made me feel weak, but the earthy scent that drifted over me and beckoned me closer. It was the screaming in my heart to reveal myself battling with the adamant thoughts to remain hidden. It felt as if my entire world was behind that door, and all I could do was walk in and ignore it. The wolf in my head stirred, going crazy being so close, but all it did was make me feel exhausted and alone. The pain radiating from my wrists and the swirling scent of my mate made me dizzy and I couldn’t think straight. I was adrift in my own head, lost as sea. I felt like I could do nothing but try to endure it. I had no escape, no way out of this mess I had created. This was a pain entirely my own. 

I must have completely missed when General Jacobs opened the heavy wooden door because there was a stifled laugh from inside as the general gave me a brusque shove through the door. I stumbled for a moment, and I was partially grateful. The imbalance brought me back to myself. I cleared my throat and I stood up straight, correcting my hunched posture. I rolled my shoulders back, held my chin up high, and forced myself to place my hands down. This did mean I rest them ever-so gently against my body, which shoved the silver into my wrists in multiple places instead of just one like when I had them hanging in the air. My breath hitched for a second but I refused to give more of my pain away to the Alpha. He may be my mate, but he was also about to be my judge, jury and executioner.

I cast my gaze around the office for a brief moment. It was habit to survey my surroundings – look for weak points and exit strategies. There was a window on the south facing wall, covered with thick deep red curtains. He had two warm, yellow office lamps illuminating the room from behind him, and he was framed by a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf riddled with books, trinkets and picture frames. I wanted to memorize each and every photo, each little trinket. There was a worn, brown and tan globe on the shelf, along with some model planes and wolf figurines. I saw Newton’s cradle and an elk antler and a cut, deep purple, natural geode. I longed to know what each thing meant to him. Were they his? His father’s? Heirlooms? My focus shifted to the desk – it was a heavy, oak piece that looked like it had been around for ages. It was beautiful. Atop the desk sat his laptop and a desk lamp, and a few more frames that were turned towards him. There were two brown leather armchairs in front of the desk and he sat in a third.

I brought my eyes to meet his and I had to lock my knees to keep from bolting. In the cozy warmth of his office lighting, he was even more beautiful than he had been down in the prison cellar. His eyes were a dark, rich blue but they sparkled with life and flecks of gold. His hair draped over his head like a curtain of molten chocolate and my fingers itched to run through it. His cheekbones were high and sharp, and with his impeccable jaw and sharp nose, it gave him an overall severe and imposing appearance. Almost dangerous. Surprisingly, miraculously, he smiled at me and I saw one dimple appear on his right cheek. The movement softened his face considerably and made him look almost boyish and charming. It also set my heart off on a marathon, beating away in my chest like a snare drum. I swayed a little again and I remembering to unlock my knees, so I didn’t faint. Oh, how cruel the Moon Goddess was to pair me with such a beautiful, perfect creature. I was feral – untamed, truly dangerous and unkempt. In comparison, he was the beauty and I was the beast. His voice brought me out of my reverie.

“Please. Have a seat.” He gestured to the wingback armchairs in front of me.

I moved my leaden feet forward and sank into one of the chairs. I clasped my hands together and placed them on my lap with delicate movements. His eyes flicked down and a snarl replaced his easy smile. “He has cuffs on you?”

I simply rose my hands up in response. The cuffs dropped an inch, searing new flesh with a flash of fiery pain and revealing the already torched skin. His outrage darkened his face further. “GENERAL JACOBS!” he roared. His voice was so angry it made me wonder for a moment if he already knew who I was to him. But that seemed impossible – wouldn’t he have said something? Dropped all pretenses of the prisoner-jailer schtick?

The door opened and the general walked in, coming up to the desk. “Yes sir?” he asked. I could tell he was trying not to be nervous, but his voice wavered subtly.

“You put silver cuffs on her?” the Alpha snarled.

“Sir, she is dangerous. I did it for the safety of the pack.”

“Take them off. Now,” he commanded. His eyes were hard, face set in tense lines. A vein pulsed near his temple.

General Jacobs pulled gloves from his pocket, but before he had a chance to put them on, the Alpha growled.

“No. With your bare hands.”

“Sir?” He sounded shocked, maybe a bit afraid.

“If she can endure it without a sound, I’m sure a few seconds will not kill you.”

General Jacobs steeled his jaw and turned to me again, taking the key out and delicately releasing the cuffs. They fell into the palm of his hands. I felt a prick of satisfaction when I saw his skin turn bright red and I heard him suck in a sharp breath. He quickly collected himself and hurried back out of the room.

The Alpha watched for the door to close before looking back at me, a soft smile taking over his face. He was so expressive. I could watch his face move through emotions like a kid watches cartoons on the TV. “Now then. I hope that feels better?”

“Much,” I said, mustering as much appreciation as I could into that single word.

“Are you always this quiet?”

“Anything I say or do could be held against me in the court of law,” I smirked, quoting the human Miranda rights. Werewolves didn’t abide by human law, but the phrase still was applicable here. The more information I gave, the worse off I could be.

He chuckled, and it was such a sweet sound. My wolf whimpered in the back of my head. Every moment we spent not in his arms was hurting her. But we had agreed – Abigail’s life and happiness were worth more than our pain. She needed us. All of Olympia needed us. “Well, this may be difficult then. Will you tell me why you were roaming around my territory?”

“I didn’t realize it was yours. Last time I was here, it was still no-man’s land.” I didn’t take my eyes off his face. Both because I liked looking at it and because I wanted to see if it would give away his intentions.

“You haven’t been here for, what? A decade? Why did you return?” His face held only open curiosity.

“It doesn’t concern you.”

He set his jaw, the vein pulsing again. I could tell he was trying not to lose his temper with me. Did he have that short of a fuse? He studied me for a moment before sighing and leaning back in his chair. “It concerns me if a dangerous wolf is crawling around close to my pack.”

It was my turn to sigh. “I understand you think I’m dangerous, but haven’t I been nothing but cooperative? I don’t want to hurt you or anyone in your pack, Alpha….” I trailed off, realizing I didn’t actually know his name.

Hurt flashed in his eyes for the briefest of moments. “My name is James Booker Fallows. You don’t remember me, Hayden?”

I studied his face, this time in the lens of trying to find familiarity. His name rang a bell, but all I could think about was if he was a Fallows, it meant he was a true heir to the Skyfall pack. There had been many ruling families in Olympia, with the Cromwell line having been the longest dynasty. Our pack was so old that we didn’t think any true heirs remained – any descendants of the Olympios family were long gone. Skyfall, on the other hand, was a few generations younger. There had been a large battle between the founding family, the Fallows, and another Highborn family, the Jettisons, many years ago. It hadn’t been until recently that the Fallows took claim again. But I couldn’t think of why his name or his face would be familiar to me specifically. I don’t remember having ever met him. I finally shook my head.

“That’s a real shame. We met when we were both young, you already had your wolf, but I hadn’t quite yet. I was jealous of you – I thought that meant you would be a better Alpha than me,” he said, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“I don’t recall, Alpha James. I apologize.”

“Booker,” he said. “You can call me Booker.”

“Alpha Booker,” I corrected.

He snorted. “No. Just Booker.”

I c****d my head to the side. That was considered an insult, to refer to an Alpha without their title. Especially if you were an outsider, or better yet, a prisoner.

He just gave me a shrug. “Anyway. Yes, you have been cooperative. I still must know why you are here.”

“It has nothing to do with your pack.”

“But it has to do with Olympia?”

“Again, it is not your concern.” My voice was hard, firm. He did not need to know I was there to kill Titan.

“Yes, it is,” he said, his voice just as resolute. “You still pose a threat.”

“And what threat may that be?” I asked, curious what he thought I could want with him.

“Well, if the story is true…they say you went wild…rouge…before trying to kill your own father. Who is to say you will not turn again? Lash out at anyone here?”

My nostrils flared. I still couldn’t believe the lies that had been spread. Lies that had been so easily swallowed by dozens, hundreds of wolves. “And if that is not the truth?”

“Then you must tell me what the true story is before I can consider letting you go. I must know my pack is not in danger if you are near.”

“You will not believe me. You’ve been poisoned by the lie for too long.”

He frowned; his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “So little faith in me. You might be surprised what I could believe.”

I sat back in my chair and sighed. My wolf spoke for the first time during this entire exchange. ‘I told you he might believe us.’

‘I will tell him. But we still cannot reveal we are mates.’

‘Why not?’

‘We’ve done too much damage. In a way, we did go rogue. Just not toward Dad. He will never accept us, and that pain will be worse than the pain of never having known him. And we can’t drag his pack into our problems.’

I focused my attention back on Booker. I took a deep breath before beginning my story.