Leila lay on Quinn's bed as she watched the curtains sway in the light breeze. After she'd eaten, she went back up to the room. Quinn said she could stay in his. They hadn't bothered her since. With a sigh, she glanced back at the digital clock. It was now 2:20 am. She didn't expect to sleep; she'd done quite enough of that lately. The house, at present, was finally quiet.
Leila rolled onto her back and gazed up at the ceiling as she listened to the gentle sound of the waves sloshing up onto the rocks. Since her hasty departure, she hadn't yet started to feel the homesickness, but now, as she lay alone, it was starting to hit her hard. She'd never been away from her pack.
The worry of what might have happened to them weighed heavily on her mind.
She knew they must have fled, Gregor's threats had not been taken lightly. Leila wondered what they all must think of her. Up until Logan said it, she hadn't truly thought of it that way.
She had abandoned them.
But then again... she had fully intended to meet up with them again. Now, she wasn't so sure. Other than taking her sister's advice to go to Alaska, she realized she never considered what she would do when she got there. It was a massive state, the refugee pack her sister told her to find could have been anywhere, and there was no telling if her pack would even go there.
The only thing she knew for sure... was they were long gone from Virginia, and she had no way of contacting them.
Leila's thoughts drifted back to her sister and her throat tightened. She wondered what Joana might be suffering on her behalf... or maybe, she hoped, she had fled with the others.
Leila's mind drifted back and forth for a time and briefly fell into the dark thoughts of what might have happened if they hadn't fled. Her pack was small. Gregor's pack had more than ten times their numbers in his Virginia estate alone, which wasn't even their largest according to Joana. The closest to her current position, at least, that she knew of was in Northern California. Gregor was in control of more of their kind than she'd like to think about.
Leila rolled back onto her side and buried her head in the pillow as she tried to still her thoughts. The worry was welling inside her. With great resolve, Leila shifted her focus to her current predicament.
Annoyance flared. Logan's earlier accusation of her abandoning her pack seemed a bit hypocritical now. She knew it was odd for one of his age to be an Alpha, but the Alpha gene was clearly in his blood. He was not just Alpha born, as the term was used loosely for any child of an Alpha, but he was a firstborn, an Alpha heir.
An Alpha heir's affinity to lead was always stronger than their younger siblings, as most Alpha born males' Alpha traits were dormant unless needed to prevent internal fighting and grabs at power. If they left the pack or became the only living heir through the deaths of any older brothers, those traits would become prominent, but they would never quite live up to an Alpha heir's potential.
Logan was a true firstborn. She could feel it, and only the strongest leaders came from a long line of Alphas, like herself. But Alpha born females had different traits than males. Their Alpha affinity was fully present no matter what order they were born. Leila always figured it was because they were often mated off to other packs to become their Alpha female, so it was necessary.
Her new companions were all clearly Alpha born, from a significantly long line if she found them suitable mates in her crazed state. Even Aaron, not being of the same breeding, had Alpha blood of his own.
And mating was forever.
She couldn't stop thinking about that. Even if she wanted to leave, she would always feel a draw to return.
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Beneath the Blood Moon
वेरवुल्फ़Leila is a werewolf, an Alpha daughter from a rare Alpha line. Due to circumstances prior to her birth, her once proud and powerful pack was nearly wiped out. With their rightful Alpha dead, their territory decimated and their numbers too small to...
