Alpha

Breakfast is awkward.

Ryder isn’t talking to me, and I realize how loud we’d been shouting—werewolves have superb hearing, but that isn't even necessary for the 'conversation' we had last night. Everyone around the now practically half empty table quietly eats their bacon and eggs until Rudi finally says, "So what are we going to do about getting the others back? Because I cannot stand being here without Cannan’s snide comments or Susanne’s gentle voice or Lovett’s rude slurping—it’s just not home without them."

We all look at her in surprise—Rudi is usually cagy and defensive, not blunt like that. "Well, I was kind of starting to get an idea last night, and as much as I’d like to tell you guys what it is, I have a feeling that remaining in the dark up until a certain point is for the best. I’m sorry, I really do want to tell you, but for now, I can’t."

"But, Louve—" Zeeva starts, looking like she wants to argue, also a bit out of character for her. Rudi looks even more annoyed about staying in the dark, much more like her usual personality.

"Look, guys," I say, my voice strict. "Who is the current Alpha of this Pack?" I look around and, everyone looks down shamefully. "I need you all to trust me on this and believe that I will do everything in my power to keep us safe and get them back."

Unable to eat anymore, I excuse myself from the table, knowing what a huge lie that is.
* * * * *
Ryder avoids me for the whole day.

For that matter, everyone stays out of my way. I waste away the day in my bedroom, content to be alone even if I don’t have much to do. The Voice is right now the only one who talks to me which is a bit creepy and annoying considering that it’s inside my head and it only makes snide comments about my intelligence and hints at the future without giving me any details. After my conversations with the Voice, I feel even more insane than I did when I first heard it—her—it.

I want things to go back to normal when I’d spend midsummer days like this out on the porch steps with my legs swung over Ryder’s while Lovett looked on disapprovingly. I want to go back to when I’d waste a boring day like this lounging around with Ryder in one of our rooms having random conversations and bantering playfully and building off of the other’s thoughts. I miss teasing Lovett and just being another member of the Pack. I hate this so much, I hate having to deceive everyone. I feel like a traitor even though I know what I’m doing is for the best—or, at least that’s what I keep telling myself.

I look down at my hand, and the red welts there look angry and are really painful. I wander off to the kitchen to find some ice for that and my cheek.

Instead, I find Ryder.

He looks at me briefly before looking away, but I can tell without even reading his feelings that he feels ashamed for his behavior last night. That makes two of us. "Did you need something?" he asks, still not looking at me.

"Um, yeah, can you please pass me some ice from the freezer?" I ask, feeling wary and tired.

Sure. He rummages through some drawers for the plastic baggies while I sit up on the counter top. The kitchen we have is relatively small with a minimal amount of walking room, but it’s functional. Finding two small Zip-Locks, Ryder goes into the freezer to fill them with ice. Wrapping them in a paper towel, he hands them to me.

"Thanks," I say, holding one in my right hand and pressing the other to my cheek. "Where are the others?"

"Eyulf and Rudi went into town—we’re running out of food. Zeeva’s around here somewhere." He looks at me and joins me on the counter top. I remain quiet, knowing that he wants to say something but is just hunting for the right words. "Look, Louve, I’m sorry I yelled at you like that last night. I didn’t mean to upset you. It was a long day for all of us, but you lost your brother, and that has to be impossible." He pauses for a moment, but I still don’t talk. "When I left my family, it didn’t affect me. My mom didn’t give a damn what happens to me, my step father hated me, and my brother was in college. But you and Lovett have been all each other have had for 12 years, and I have to respect that. So once again, I’m sorry that I yelled at you like that when you were already so down."

I notice that he mentions nothing about saying that he loves me, but I don’t pry, knowing that we’ll talk about that when one or both of us is ready—I’m still trying to figure out how to respond to it. I hop down from the counter. "Let’s go sit outside," I suggest, turning and walking out as he jumps down and joins me.

"Listen, Ryder, I was being just as harsh on you last night as you were on me," I say as we sit on the steps. For the first time in years, I don't sprawl my legs over his—it would just be weird right now. "I shouldn't have said a lot of that stuff either. But I've got something to tell you—something that no one else knows about and no one else can ever find out."

He hears the serious note in my voice and nods, waiting to see what I have to say. His nod urges me on.

"Okay, well here's the thing... I get these—what should I call them... Well, they're not exactly nightmares." I struggle to put my thoughts into words, wishing that Ryder just knew exactly what I'm thinking like he usually does. "Look, it’s complicated. Sometimes, when I go to sleep, I have these very vivid and yet murky dreams. And they sometimes come true. Actually, the first one I ever had was...it was when I was four." I glance up at him through my curtains of hair.

"When you were..." I see him trying to remember why that was such an important age for me, and understanding quickly dawns on him. "So that was..."

I start to feel frazzled and have a hard time keeping still. Thinking about my parents, especially when they died, is sometimes just too much. "I saw that car hit us. I didn’t see my parents die, but I saw that car hit us, and I heard my mother scream at the impact. And then when I was 10, I watched my uncle cleaning the roof shingles, and I saw someone wearing a trench coat and hat like the one from the other dream...and from that night sneak into the yard and I knew what he was going to do, but again I didn’t see him kill my uncle. And then the other day when I was napping before we went out...I was running because someone was chasing me. But I was a wolf and it was at night. And I was in trouble—that much I do know. And then...there was this Voice. And then someone grabbed me, and you woke me up." I huff with frustration. "I’m not making any sense!" Unable to sit any longer, I stand up and pace, trying to get my thoughts in order and calm down.

"Listen, the bottom line is that I have dreams about bad things that are going to happen no matter what I do. And now there is this Voice that has been talking to me, both when I'm awake and when I fall asleep. And so far, I’ve seen myself being chased and captured as a wolf and myself in a prison-like room with steel locks and walls. Ryder, these dreams always come true. And the Voice said that we’re all going to wind up there. If that Voice is as true as the dreams, then that’s what will happen."

"Wait..." I can tell he’s trying hard to process all of this. "What exactly are you thinking?"

I bite my lip—this part is the one I was dreading. "Hear me out. I don't like this any more than you do, but I’m going to have to let all of us be captured over the course of the next month until the Full Moon when I can allow myself to be captured and taken away."

The irony of me saying that we have to wait until the Full Moon despite what I told Ryder just last night isn’t lost on me. I seem to be contradicting myself a lot lately.

"Wait, you can’t be seriously considering that!" He jumps up.

"Hush, Ryder," I whisper, listening to make sure none of the others are nearby and that Zeeva didn't hear him. I grab his wrist and try pulling him back down onto the step with me. My voice is desperate. "You can not tell a soul!"

"Louve, you are talking about sacrificing—" his slightly quieter voice is hard, but I cut him off as he sits back down.

"Yes, I am talking about sacrificing the Pack, but Ryder, I tried to avoid that man killing my uncle—I did. But when I have these dreams, it's inevitable. Plus, the Voice said that even when I get to the place, we are all still alive." Not exactly the truth, but I need him to be on board. "And, it also said that only one of us will die and that one of us is a traitor. If I'm going to find out who, my only chance is to listen to this stupid freaking Voice in my head and let us all get taken. It frustrates me and makes me feel insane and when we get out of this I probably will be crazy, but you need to trust me on this. There is no fighting it—no reasoning to be made and no arguments to be had. And on top of that, I've had Pack members die. And when someone in your Pack dies, you know. Trust me, it hurts like you can't even imagine. There's a gaping whole in your chest, and you feel as though you yourself are dying. As long as none of us feel that, we're all good." I try mustering up a confident smile that we both know is fake.

"But—

"Ryder." I know it's mean, but I have to do this. It's the only way to get him to agree. I close my eyes and speak quickly. "Last night you said you love me. Now I know that I don't know much about love, but I do know that it requires a whole truck load of trust. So I am begging you on this. Trust me. I know what I'm doing."

He still looks skeptical so I grab his hands and hold them tight, looking into his eyes, trying to make him realize that this really is the only way. Finally, looking unhappy, he nods, and I lean back against the stair pillar. I feel awful, wondering what’s happening to me. A few days ago, I would’ve never even considered using Ryder’s feelings for me against him just to get what I want. I just keep reminding myself that this is for the Pack.

We sit there, watching the lazy sun cast light over the expanse of yard, and Ryder begins to talk. "Hey, um, Louve. I was just wondering…" I look at him. "Would it be the worst thing in the world if we did start dating? I'm not asking you to take me on as an official mate, but couldn't you just consider giving me a shot? When I was a human, I got with a bunch of girls that I couldn't have given two shits about, but you're the first girl I've ever actually cared about."

I gaze at him and consider. I've always had strong feelings for Ryder, but I've always categorized him strictly as a friend. But I do really find myself attracted to him. We get along so well and, really, I could do a lot worse. He always cares more about me than he does anyone else in the Pack, sometimes more than even himself. But I just don't know how to tell if I really love him or not. I bite my lip and realize I've been silent for more than a minute.

I sigh. "I'll tell you what. If we can get out of this mess with our heads, you can ask me again with flowers and chocolate or any other gooey romantic sentiments you can come up with. Give me, at most, a month."

He finally concedes with a nod and a pinkie swear, but the way he's looking at me shows how much my resistance hurts, and I really do feel bad. But for now, I have bigger concerns at hand. Problem number one: what am I going to do about this freaking Voice? Problem number two: who's next, when, and how?