The Power-lock (UNDER CONSTRUCTION)

CHAPTER 16 : ROSS

   Oak trees line the back of the school, its dry and discreet scent mingled in the air. The slow, dramatic breeze rustles the leaves hanging from their branches. They collide in a battery, much like a chain of cars crashing, one by one.

   Alyson lies safe and comfortable in my arms. I inhale her sugary scent, reminiscing the moments that brought us so close together. I can hear her thoughts. The silence, that I find so peaceful,seems eerie to her.

   I close my eyes and linger in the moment but am instantaneously pushed off of the cliff of my thoughts, when I see a tiny, frail figure lurking under the shadows of the oak-trees.

   I scrunch my face as I take in the scent. The scent is faint - almost indistinguishable - mingled with that originating from the aromatic bark of the oak-tree. Anderson. It can be no one but her.

   What is she doing here? Well, ignoring her small, munchkin-ish self, she's locomoting at a snail-pace, crawling on her elbows. My best guess is she's playing hokey. Rossco chimes in. Hokey? I ask, I've heard the expression before, sounds kinda old. Rossco thinks of suitable words. You know, she's sneaking out. Oh, well that makes sense. You know, she's already pretty short, she really doesn't need to do THAT. I bet no one would have noticed her even if she was standing.

   Rossco's right. She really doesn't need to kneel. She's already too small to be noticed. Why is she sneaking away? She could get in trouble. Rossco inquires me as if I know what goes around in that thick head of hers. Why do you even care, Rossco? I'm not in the mood to deal with her BS. She'll probably brush me off with yet another canine joke. Trust me, I'm not in the mood to deal with it.

   Fine. Don't go, then. Stay here with the blondie. Why act like an Alpha and keep a tab on your pack? Why not spend the afternoon cuddling with good ol' Alyson, popping grapes in your mouth. I seldom get Rossco's sarcasm. It's too vague to be understood. Then again, all he ever communicates with, id through sarcasm. Nonetheless, I let it go.

   I am about to go back to giving my attention to Alyson, when suddenly, I spot a lean figure boarding the adjacent pack's border-line, stepping onto ours. What the hell? Rossco booms in. Hold on, maybe it's just a wandering normie. I inhale deeply, taking in the sweet and intoxicating honey-lemon scent.

   The scent is so sweet that I just can't help but keep wanting more. Taking more deep breaths, I slowly put Alyson on the ground and walk towards the slender figure of the strange girl. Her exotic beauty captures me; her shiny, long, jet-black hair hangs vertically from her head, stopping just at the small of her back; her bright, shiny green eyes compliment her perfect sun-kissed skin. The whole idea of such perfection puts my heart in a frenzy.

   I wait for something to happen, something that would cause a stir, something that would change me. I keep all my senses open and listen harder but nothing. Silence is all I hear from Rossco. Rossco? Man, come on. Say something. I probe him for some sort of a response. No. One simple word, one simple word that breaks the so-called big, strong Alpha's precious, little, fragile heart. Ironic, but true. She's not my mate.

   I swallow it up - the pain, the sickness. Rossco senses my discomfort. You're not the only one that's disappointed. I want this more than you ever could. Ouch. That makes me feel a little less heavy but without a doubt, neither one of us is alright.

   I barely have time to finish my moping when I see things unravel in front of me: Anderson approaches the black-haired beauty; they share a very friendly greeting; they hold hands and leave to the other pack's territory. Wait, what? Oh my God, she's gay? I state half-shocked, half-confused, and partly grossed out. Still not feeling up to deal with her BS? Rossco's voice is laced with sarcasm. If there were any signs of him being broken a minute ago, well, they just aren't there anymore.