It was my fault. I know it was. I should have never tried to run away to the other side and I should have never gotten his scent on me.
It was my fault.
“Effy, what’s wrong baby?” My mother dabbed at a tear, right in the corner of my eye before it spilled and sprawled enough to ruin the kohl she had applied heavily. The Kohl was his request, he wanted me to look as beautiful and exotic as an Egyptian woman.
Once upon a time we were free, me and my mother. Eight years ago we were among our own tribe, nothing like this pack of wild wolves that had stolen us away during the battle between our two packs. We were free, and I had a father back then.
Until they killed him.
Until my tribe lost.
Until they caught us.
But we weren’t the only ones.
I sniffed and brushed at my nose with the sleeve of the silk cherry painted robe mama had found for me as I recalled the others. The fabric slid and the salty liquid dripping from my nose soaked into the tiny crevices. There was Samantha, with skin as dark as the midnight sky. And there was her family. Then there was Laura, Jerry…and at least five more. But we weren’t many among the two hundred of the Jade Pack, but we were easy to spot. The Jades were descendants of Bulgaria, nearly two hundred years they had been in America. Rich black hair, fair skin and delicate features. Me and the captured of my tribe of Isis stood out like a sore thumb. Dark skin, rough features, kinky hair.
“Nothing mama,” I lied as I sniffed back the tears once again and concentrated on hardening my face.
My eyes remained forward, locked in on the only picture of my father we had, a blown up picture of the one mama had kept in a locket the day they took us away. From my right I smelled her sweet scent of cinnamon and brown sugar…items she had been cooking with moments before she came to my side to finish preparing me. Her long braids brushed against my shoulder and her words once soothing the day before did nothing to ease me.
“Effy don’t cry, baby I know you don’t want to d—“
“Why are we here!” The words bounced throughout the sad and small room, the only room that was big enough to breathe essentially. I rubbed at my nose again and frowned into the mirror before me. The girl staring back wasn’t me at all, I didn’t know here. I didn’t know those thick black rimmed eyes, the bronzed eyelids, Dangling moon shaped earrings, but I knew the hair, long almost black and hanging around my shoulders in tight and small spiraled curls. And I knew the skin, rich, dark and brown like roasted cocoa beans.
“Why aren’t we dead!” It was then that I pushed away from the table and swiped the mirror to the side, it landed hard against the countertop. A loud crack pierced the silent air and my mother sobbed beside me. But I turned around not ready to give up on my tirade because I was pissed. Not even her sobbing before me could ease my pain. I watched her steadily, tall and gaunt and as dark as me standing there pressing her palm against her plump lips, “No I mean it mama. Why aren’t we dead? Why didn’t they kill us too? Huh?”
She said nothing, instead she sank into the sad excuse for a chair we had, the only one we had really and allowed my words to crash against her. She didn’t usually fall back like that, my mother was strong, efficient, but the Jade pack had made her weak and obliging.
“I don’t want to do this mama! I don’t want to be the Alphas play thing!”
And I didn’t. I had no want of him, but he had seen me and he wanted me. I was the only one of my kind he had chosen yet that wasn’t a gift. It wasn’t even a compliment.
It was an insult.
“Is this what you want for me? To be his hooker? Why are you so weak!”
Still she said nothing but she hid her face in her palms and I watched as her shoulders rose and fell.
I wanted to be apologetic and tell her that I was sorry, tell her that it wasn’t her fault that we were in this position to serve another but I couldn’t. It wasn’t something I could muster. And when a tall and lithe woman pressed her way into our front door I knew that an apology was something that I didn’t have the strength for, “Effy? He’s ready for you.”
The dark night spilled in after her framing her white skin like a delicate piece of ribbon riveting around her form. The faint and dim light from my mother’s kitchen was the only light we had on at the moment.
“Is it clear to go? Is his wife…” I trailed off imagining the hot headed raven haired woman pacing in her quarters thrashing about and thinking up ways to murder her husband’s latest conquest.
She would find a way to kill me. Like Saundra. There was no way she had just went missing, not when the Alpha kept a keen eye on all of his lovers. There was no way.
“She’s…” Clara inclined her head as she thought, her silver like hair fell to the left as she did so, her lips thinned and her eyes watched me sadly, “away for the night. Alphas orders.”
None of it made me feel better, but I cracked a smile despite myself, “How pleasant.”
But I didn’t see anything pleasant at all following that night. Like a bad omen a raven flew into my home and crashed into the picture standing firm, the one of my father.
It fell…and shattered.
A/N: Hello all! This might be a little bit confusing especially since the Alpha is creeping with so many women. How can he do that you many ask? Simple. In my story there's no such thing as 'mate for life' I researched and found that actual wolves (although these aren't actual wolves lol) often times have more than one mate in their life time. with that being said there is no bond that keeps them loyal to one person. Hope that doesn't confuse you too much! and as you'll notice later this Alpha isn't so friendly or loving.
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The Alpha's LoverWerewolf
Rated PG-13 for frankness, adult content,mature situations and crude language. What the Alpha want's, the Alpha get's and he wants Effy. What begins as a forceful act of authority ends in turmoil and unrest. Lust breeds pain and pain deceit and de...