Alpha

Nothing happens for a few days and I begin to feel restless. But then, after about a week and a half, Rudi comes racing into my room with Zeeva by her side, both looking extremely stressed.

Since that day that Ryder and I talked, things between us have gone back to normal, if with a little bit more tension. Everyone's been a bit on edge, always worrying that something was going to come out of a corner and snatch us away, but I sense through the Bond that that isn't the only thing bothering him right now. The guys have spent the days working out and practice fighting, and the girls have tried to figure out what I'm planning and when it'll happen. I've just been spending the majority of my time worrying about when everything is going to happen—when is the next one of us going to be kidnapped? When, when, when? Who, who, who? That Voice hasn't helped much either—always teasing me and laughing at my frustration.

Ryder has been a pretty good distraction at night, however. He puts all of his feelings aside and keeps my mind off of the Voice and Lovett and the traitor as best as he can. He also keeps the others from pestering me too much about my "master plan," for which I am grateful. But I can't help but suspect that it's all because of his feelings for me romantically, hoping that treating me better will help move along the month or make me forget about the promise and just take him for my Mate. But I just can't consider that until I find out who the traitor is and who the one who dies is. For that matter, is the traitor the one who will die? I just can't take the stress that I feel pressing down on me.

And so, when the girls storm into my room while Ryder and I play a game of Go Fish, I feel sick at my feeling of relief. I barely take note of the fact that Rudi isn't struggling to keep sobs at bay like she did for Cannan and Susanne—they are spilling down her cheeks. I know before they even say anything that the plan is finally being set in motion.

Eyulf has been kidnapped.

I don't even pay attention to Rudi's hysterical attempts to explain or Zeeva's deathly calm recollection of what happened. I don't pay attention to Ryder's look of grave concern at the blank expression on my face as he tries to pay attention to what the girls are saying. I don't pay attention when he sends them away and tells them to stay together.

I honestly don't even pay attention to him calling my name until he literally shakes me into awareness. All I can think is, wow, the Voice was right.

'What are you talking about, stupid? Of course I was right! I am always right!'

'Shut up.'

"Louve, I do not like that look," Ryder says with a blend of concern and fear. "What is that look? Please stop it."

"Ryder, you realize what this means, don't you?" I ask, my voice unrecognizable.

"Louve?"

"There are only four of us left. He's got half of us. Four spread over the course of two and a half weeks—we’ll be gone before you know it. And I'm sure you'll be right there with me to the end, lover boy." I start laughing strangely. Part of that was me, but part of it wasn't. It's like there was more than one person talking out of my mouth at the same exact time.

"Louve, stop it!"

I snap out of it, blinking and unsure what just happened. "Ryder," I whisper hesitantly, "that wasn't me just talking." I'm actually afraid of what just happened.

"Oh, and who was it? The voice in your head?" He stares at me as I realize that that's actually what happened—the Voice is taking control. "Oh my gosh, it was."

I swallow and try to talk, finding it very difficult. Finally, I manage, my blood turning cold with the fear rushing through my veins. "Ryder, what's happening to me?" I look at him, feeling very young an in need of comfort.

"Well for one thing we have to stop listening to that voice...thing."

"But, Ryder, it's always there. It doesn’t leave me alone—ever. How am I supposed to ignore it when every time I tell it to shut up it just laughs and comes back later?"

"Well it's your fault for allowing it some control over you." His voice is harsh, confusing me. I don't understand how he can blame me for not controlling this thing. It's so strong, and it is always there! But his face is hard and unrevealing. "Perhaps if you'd never started believing that dreams really do come true and that voices in your head speak the truth, we wouldn't be in this mess."

I shake my head. "Get. Out."

He looks at me with regret, almost as if he can't believe he just said all of that, as if saying that hurt him as much as it hurt me. He seems to be shaking something off. "Wait, Louve—"

"Out. Because if you think for even a second that I actually enjoy the fact that my nightmares become a reality and some shrill Voice in my head sees the future, you've lost all of your marbles. So get out."

He looks like he wants to argue but decides against it, turns, and leaves my room.

"I hate you, you hear me? You are the worst thing that's ever happened to me!" I keep my voice somewhat low, but I still make my words drip with poison. I don't know what that just was with Ryder, but this stupid Voice is screwing with everyone.

'Yes, but where would you be without me?'

"Shut up."

'That is exactly what I thought; even you know I'm right. So what are you going to do with ‘lover boy?’' The Voice laughs.

"Well, shouldn't you know? Don't you know everything?"

'I do, I just want to see if you're right in what you think will happen.'

"You are so annoying. Why don't you just leave me alone?"

'Because that is not the way I work.'

"I wish you would just get out of my head!"

'Yes, but where would I go? You are the only person on this planet—in this universe—who can actually handle having me in their head. Any other person and I would have fried their brain on the first day and taken control of their mind—of their life—or killed them; it could go either way! You, on the other hand, actually present a challenge—well…you and your brother. But you’re much more fun and much less mopey. Honestly, it’s a wonder he hasn’t killed himself yet... But as I was saying, I have to fight to have control of you. It makes my life very entertaining.'

"Ugh, my head hurts," I mutter, resolving to ignore what she said about Lovett.

'You know, you really are smarter than I give you credit for. Sure, you are not the brightest wolf in the Pack, but you do offer up some semblance of mental control I have never seen in anyone else I have ever met—well, visited the mind of.'

The Voice shuts up after that, for which I'm grateful. I need some sleep, something I can't have when it's bothering me. And after that conversation, I have a feeling it won't bother me for a while—after long conversations, it usually leaves me alone.

I trudge off to the bathroom that has a tub and pass Rudi's room. She's sitting on her bed, sobbing with her chin resting on her knees. I knock gently on the open door before stepping inside.

"Hey, Rudi."

She looks at me with eyes full of anger that I've never seen there. "What do you want?" she snarls at me.

I'm taken aback but don't realize what I've done. "What's wrong? Do you want to talk about it?"

"Alright, sure. How about you explain why you've been sitting on your ass for almost two weeks now while the others are locked up God-knows-where. You say you have a plan, but none of us have seen you do anything! And now, Eyulf is gone and I miss him. You'd think that after years of claiming that your brother has been the only one there for you your whole life, you'd want him back. But no. You're letting him sit there and rot! For all you know, he could be dead!"

"Rudi," I say, even more exhausted now. "My brother is not dead. Trust me when I say that you know when a Pack member dies."

She looks a bit less smug, but her annoyance seems to flare. "Well even so, he's probably being tortured in the clutches of that Damien guy, and now that guy's got Eyulf, as well. You may not care what happens to us, but I do. So does Zeeva, and so did everyone else. Now it's your fault that we're being picked off like lint! And, to make it all worse, your leading on poor Ryder. That's worse than anything else you're doing. It's bad enough that your letting us be taken, but he deserves better than that! He actually cares about you and has been keeping us off of your back these past two weeks, not that you've noticed or cared. And what do you do, you just let him stay hooked and totally ignore him. You're a real bitch, you know that? You really are!"

Eventually, I don't even hear what Rudi's saying to me—I don't register it or even bother paying her any attention. I just let her go on yelling at me. The Voice is there, tickling my mind, urging me to give her a taste of her own medicine, but I ignore it. What's the point? That wouldn't be useful in any way. If anything, the best thing to do would probably be to just let her think I don't care. That would make it easier to execute the actual plan when I get to the prison. Ignorance really is bliss.

And so there I stand until Rudi finally breaks down and begins crying again. I just let myself out and continue down the dark hallway to the bathroom. I leave all of the lights off and allow the only light to be the pink glow from the sun setting outside.

As the small tub fills with warm water, I strip off my shorts and tank-top. I look at my cheek in the mirror. The marks from the gun went down in inflammation, but as I suspected, they'll be there for life. You can't really tell that it was a gun—it looks like it could be a number of blunt objects—but it's horrendous and disgusting nevertheless.

I turn off the water and slip into the tub to allow the relaxation process to begin. The steamy water is enough—I don't need those nasty chemical things that give of scents that are supposed to be 'good.' They make me sneeze as they're too strong for my hypersensitive nose.

I don't know how long I sit in the tub. I know I've dosed off a couple of times, but I don't realize how long exactly I've been siting there. My skin feels funny from sitting in the water too long though, so I know I have to get out. And the water isn't even warm anymore. But my muscles feel so relaxed…

I undrain the tub and begin to stand up reaching for a towel.

And then the door opens.

"Oh my gosh! Get out!" I yell, groping desperately around for a towel and almost slipping to the tub's floor in my attempts to hide as Ryder, the intruder, averts his eyes in embarrassment.

"Louve, I'm sorry!"

"Just get out!" I finally find a towel and cover my body, part of which was clearly visible when he walked in. I'm so humiliated.

"Louve, I'm—I"

"Ryder, just get out."

He leaves, and I wait until he closes the door before I stand up, stepping out of the tub. I've never felt so embarrassed before. My toes and fingers hurt from pruning, and I feel so exposed. I realize that I forgot to bring clothes to change into through my exhaustion and frustration, and I am forced to walk out of the bathroom, past Ryder, and back to my room, all while being covered only by a towel. I hang my head, shake out some of the water, and gather the clothes I took off earlier. I make sure that the towel is as tight as possible before holding my head high and opening the door.

"Louve, I—"

"Don't say a word," I say quietly as I walk past him. "Not. One. Word."