Alpha Paxton

15 |

As soon as that precious soul entered the world knew what Artemis was going to do; groom the child and then kill them when their magic became strong enough —harnessing the lost power for herself.

She had even killed her own daughter. One of the heirs.

Hana.

Saying her name made me feel like I was suffocating. I had to push the thought away before I became engulfed in it.

I couldn't let it happen again — I wouldn't allow the same fate for this baby. This time, I was going to save her. Artemis had killed Adira's mother, not long after birth. Leaving another child defenseless.

So I took her. And ran, prepared to run forever.

I had her, in my arms. This tiny baby. Wrapped up and innocent to the crazy world booming around her.

I didn't make it far before Artemis found me.

It started with the wolf howls. I was surrounded. The rest of the dream was a blur —their teeth sinking into my skin and my sister's face hovering over me muttering an incantation.

My screams mixed with the baby's cries until it all faded into nothing.

~

When I awoke it wasn't my tear-stained cheeks that grabbed my attention, but the large figure hovering over me. Paxton's warm hands were on my shoulders. He was aggressively shaking me.

"It's just a bad dream, it's just a bad dream." He continued to mutter, and his strong grip loosened when he realized I was finally awake. He started assessing me for any other sign of injury or trauma.

But this was one of the only times I didn't want to be touched, not even by him.

I got up and pushed past him. Even though there was nowhere to go on this plane, I managed to hunker down in a new seat and hoped he wouldn't follow.

Paxton just stood there, almost like he was paralyzed, unsure of how to help.

But he couldn't. No one could.

I wasn't strong enough to save her; I couldn't save Adira then and now she was dead because of me.

~

"Where are we?"

The cold breeze told me that we had flown north, but I hadn't even known there was a pack this far away from where the werewolves had originated.

Who had migrated this far and managed to survive?

Paxton and I hadn't talked much since he witnessed my dream. He had handed me a coat when we got off the plane and after I slipped it on, he zipped it up for me.

It was these gestures that left me at a loss. They were confusing to me but also heartwarming. I never knew if he was feeling the bond or not.

"Glacier Ridge —the most northern of the packs. We are up in the Yukon believe it or not. I don't get why a pack would ever want to be based up here because of the cold, but it sure is beautiful."

And he was right, even on our short walk, I couldn't take in everything. Even though the trees were bare, the snow and ice created a blanket of beauty that covered everything. I could smell the fresh pine. It reminded me of Christmas, even though it was only the end of September.

It was only a five-minute walk from the tarmac to the main house.

House wasn't the right word. It was magnificent; it reminded me of my childhood home. It almost seemed to have the same glass windows.