The Curse Of The Alpha

15

Word Count: 1918

~Meara

I wander down the street, a heavy burden weighing on my shoulders.

People sweep around me as I walk, wary about contracting the sickness that continues to plague the Pack. Little do they know, the sickness comes from the curse, and not from each other.

Sire, Hazel and I have been trying to find a way to end this curse for over a week now, and we have found nothing.

And considering how tense Hazel is, there may not be one.

Swallowing thickly, I push my way into the bar, guilt swarming in the pit of my stomach.

I have to do this. It might be the wrong thing to do, but there is a chance this is the only way that the curse will end. Even Hazel admitted it's possible, which is the closest we have been to an answer yet.

Sitting at the bar, head lowered to avoid drawing attention, sits Alpha Carran.

I need to do this. The fate of this Pack could be relying on this.

"I'm grateful you have met with today," Carran greets as I slide into the seat next to him.

"We need to make this short. He thinks I'm at work," I mutter lowly.

I glance over my shoulder, worried Sire will suddenly appear and see who I am with. It's likely it may happen, as even though I told him to leave me alone for the day, he has come to my work before, and when he sees I'm not there, he will come looking for me.

"If he finds you are speaking to me, he won't be very happy," Carran states, only adding to my anxiety.

He will be beyond unhappy. Carran is his enemy, and we are currently plotting to put Sire back underground in hopes that it will end the curse.

What Carran doesn't know is that I plan to continue finding a way to ensure the curse never comes back, so I can eventually bring Sire back...

"I don't want to have to do this. But I don't think I have any other choice," I admit, turning to look at him.

Carran has always creeped me out.

It's not because of the way he looks, because many regard him as handsome. It is because of the way he carries himself, the way he makes me feel just by being in his presence.

"You're trembling," he notes, reaching out to touch my hand.

I pull it back immediately. "Don't touch me."

He frowns. I doubt an Alpha is used to being rejected so ardently, but thankfully he doesn't seem too offended.

"I'm sorry. What is going on?"

"People are dying from the curse. I've tried to find a way to end it, but I haven't been successful," I say, resting my palms against the surface of the bar.

The deaths are so bad, this bar is entirely empty except for Carran and I, and the bartender looks reluctant to come take our order. That suits me just fine, because it's not as if I can drink right now.

"Yes. People are dying very quickly," Carran mutters, rolling his shoulders, tense from this situation.

I've seen his broadcasts, and he has been telling the public that this sickness will be contained shortly, although has avoided mentioning where it has come from.

No one wants to hear that an ancient Alpha has escaped his tomb and unleashed a deadly curse...

"I know. And I'm scared my friend and I will be next," I tell him. "I don't want anyone else to die."