The Curse Of The Alpha

4

Word Count: 2242

~Meara

I'm not sure how much time passes, but it feels like I'm running forever.

Every time I look over my shoulder, I'm convinced Sire is right behind me. I imagine him reaching from the shadows, dragging me into them and back into the past, where he came from.

Nothing interrupts my run except the odd fallen branch and the hideous amount of rain that falls through the canopy, drenching me.

Hazel's house comes into view, and mercifully, I can see her bedroom light is on.

She made it back.

Rushing up her porch, I pound on her door. Glancing over my shoulder, I scan her driveway.

There is nothing there except rustling trees and growing puddles. There is no sign of an ancient Alpha coming to kill me or steal me away.

But if he tracked me from the tomb to my home, it's only a matter of time before he gets here.

Hazel opens the door, gasping at the sight of me.

I immediately charge past her and into her wonderfully warm living area. "I need you to tell me everything about Sire right now."

She releases a long breath, quickly locking the door behind me, sensing my eagerness.

"Meara, are you okay?" She questions, examining me with a concerned eye. Last time she saw me I was sinking into the very ground she stood on, seemingly to my death.

"No. I'm his mate," I gasp out, trying to regain my breath from my frantic run.

Hazel rubs the back of her neck, fumbling with her shock. "I figured..."

I pace back and forth, aware that I'm dripping all over her carpet, and I'm still covered in mud. If Hazel hadn't seen me sink into the ground, she would think I'm deranged.

"He followed me all the way to my house," I tell her, pointing in the general direction of it. I hope he is still there.

Hazel shudders. She knows more about him, and whatever it is that she knows, it isn't good.

"He probably wants to claim you," she exclaims matter-of-factly. She doesn't get emotional when she is faced with a problem, which is why I'm trusting her to keep me grounded.

Because it feels like my entire world is crumbling apart.

My mouth falls open a little. "Claim me?"

"He's from a different time. Back then, mates would mark each other as a claim. Especially Alpha's," Hazel explains to me slowly, trying not to let everything overwhelm me.

"He isn't touching me," I grit out, backing toward the fire.

Wiping the water from my face, I tug off my jacket, letting it drop in a sopping heap onto the ground. Why me? Why do I have to be mated to an insane person?

"Sure, fine...Where is he now?" She questions.

"Probably still at my house. He said he was low on strength." I hope he is still there. I don't know for certain - he could be anywhere by now.

Hazel's gaze darkens as she tosses another log of wood onto the fire before making her way to her bookshelf. It is a large, magnificent thing that is stacked full of books on magic, on the world and on history.

"His version of low on strength is not the same as ours, Meara," she reminds me, scanning the shelves for what she needs.

"Shit." I dig my hands into my wet locks, gripping them tightly. "You need to tell me everything you know about him so I can figure out what to do."