Sequel: Streak of Black ›
Alpha
Preface-Full Moon 7, 2000
A car accident.
That is the first thing about life I can remember, at least clearly. I don’t remember learning how to walk or talk or the first time I ever fell, but I remember a car accident 12 years ago when I was four years old as if it's a video perpetually burned into my brain.
It was completely out of nowhere. A car was suddenly streaming into the middle of the intersection and hit my car from the side. I remember my mother screaming in fear, shock, and pain—her side of the car is where we were hit the hardest. The left front passenger seat. But the assailant intentionally hit us only as a sort of shove that had us skidding into the middle of the road.
He wanted to torture us.
A tall man got out of the car in a long, beige trench coat and a matching fedora. But I didn't understand what was happening yet, being so young. It didn't hit me until I saw him yank open my mother's door, grab her wrist, shoved her to the ground, and put all of his weight into his foot as he crushed her skull. The quiet CRACK that sounded like thunder to my ears as it splintered still echoes in my nightmares.
My father then looked up desperately at the sky and smirked a twisted grin with no business being on his face. He muttered, Full Moon, too late, and turned to Lovett, who’s four years older than me. "Lovett, take your sister and run," he commanded in French before throwing himself out of the car and circling the strange man.
I looked around in alarm before Lovett grabbed my arm and tugged me out of the car, as terrified of what was happening as I was but always willing to immediately obey our father when it came to me and my safety. We’d been on our way to a forest in Northern France and were almost there. Lovett kept hold of my wrist as we ran, barely holding me up. The tears that streamed down my face blinded me further as a gunshot sounded through the quiet twilight air.
And I had to bite my tongue on the screams that threatened to escape my lips as my father died. It was like my chest was being ripped open, and my own life was ending.
'So this is how it feels when a Pack mate dies,' I mentally marveled as Lovett continued to practically drag me. By the look on his face, he felt the same, but he knew that his priority was to ensure my safety before all else. But it hurt like hell.
We arrived at the forest, and Lovett and I fought the change as the moonlight began to shine a silver glow around us. I began to feel dizzy and lightheaded from the mental fight, but I had to stay strong like Lovett. Fast footsteps sounded behind us, and we threw ourselves into the bushes as the change overtook us and we grieved the loss of our parents in the form of two young wolves.
The gun sounded again, and a bullet appeared in the tree we huddled under, only a centimeter above Lovett's head.
That is the first thing about life I can remember, at least clearly. I don’t remember learning how to walk or talk or the first time I ever fell, but I remember a car accident 12 years ago when I was four years old as if it's a video perpetually burned into my brain.
It was completely out of nowhere. A car was suddenly streaming into the middle of the intersection and hit my car from the side. I remember my mother screaming in fear, shock, and pain—her side of the car is where we were hit the hardest. The left front passenger seat. But the assailant intentionally hit us only as a sort of shove that had us skidding into the middle of the road.
He wanted to torture us.
A tall man got out of the car in a long, beige trench coat and a matching fedora. But I didn't understand what was happening yet, being so young. It didn't hit me until I saw him yank open my mother's door, grab her wrist, shoved her to the ground, and put all of his weight into his foot as he crushed her skull. The quiet CRACK that sounded like thunder to my ears as it splintered still echoes in my nightmares.
My father then looked up desperately at the sky and smirked a twisted grin with no business being on his face. He muttered, Full Moon, too late, and turned to Lovett, who’s four years older than me. "Lovett, take your sister and run," he commanded in French before throwing himself out of the car and circling the strange man.
I looked around in alarm before Lovett grabbed my arm and tugged me out of the car, as terrified of what was happening as I was but always willing to immediately obey our father when it came to me and my safety. We’d been on our way to a forest in Northern France and were almost there. Lovett kept hold of my wrist as we ran, barely holding me up. The tears that streamed down my face blinded me further as a gunshot sounded through the quiet twilight air.
And I had to bite my tongue on the screams that threatened to escape my lips as my father died. It was like my chest was being ripped open, and my own life was ending.
'So this is how it feels when a Pack mate dies,' I mentally marveled as Lovett continued to practically drag me. By the look on his face, he felt the same, but he knew that his priority was to ensure my safety before all else. But it hurt like hell.
We arrived at the forest, and Lovett and I fought the change as the moonlight began to shine a silver glow around us. I began to feel dizzy and lightheaded from the mental fight, but I had to stay strong like Lovett. Fast footsteps sounded behind us, and we threw ourselves into the bushes as the change overtook us and we grieved the loss of our parents in the form of two young wolves.
The gun sounded again, and a bullet appeared in the tree we huddled under, only a centimeter above Lovett's head.