Danger.
An insistent whisper that pierces a cloud of dreams and mories, a place I cannot escape.
But it fades, and the urgency within it does too.
"You'll be Alpha one day, Lucas. You'll have to learn to put your people first."
"But Father, that has nothing to do with blackberry pies." Clinging to a branch high above my father's head, I'm refusing to co down and face punishnt.
Kellan's already been taken by his father, the scary-faced Jericho. ? I ran my blackberry-stained face into the forest, knowing Father—the pack Alpha—would tan my hide for stealing a few pies.
Mom always did love to bake.
"Those pies were to go to the widows of last night's raid," Father says, his face fading and blurring from view.
Danger, that strange voice whispers again, and I sit up on the branch, no longer five years old.
I'm older now, but still a child.
Father argues with Uncle Jericho. We're in a dense patch of woods, where sunlight barely reaches. I'm hiding behind a bush, straining to catch every word.
Their voices are laden with tension. My chest tightens as I drink in Father's face, committing every line and shadow to mory. A dull ache spreads through , a pain I can't quite place.
"He drinks only from animals," Jericho insists, his gruff voice earnest. "He has no interest in harming people."
Father's jaw clenches, his hands curling into fists. His entire body is tense. "He's too newly turned, Jericho. You can't possibly believe he has control over his instincts."
Their words echo in my mind, stirring a primal fear I've been taught since birth. Vampires are dangerous. Vampires can't be trusted.
But Uncle Jericho stands his ground, his broad shoulders set with determination. "You're too prejudiced against vampires. This isn't about ancient history anymore."
"Why would you put the pack's safety over soone you barely know?"
It's rare to see Father this agitated, his usual calm deanor cracking. Flaring nostrils. Fists that tremble as his knuckles turn white. A sour, bitter scent that perates the air.
This forbidden conversation keeps rooted to my spot. I'm downwind. They don't see .
Jericho's expression softens, his next words catching off guard. "All supernaturals should have each other's backs in this world. We're all fighting the sa battle. We should open our minds to new possibilities rather than living in the past."
"Why doesn't he settle in the established supernatural communities? Why live like a ghost among humans?"
Surely, if this vampire ans no harm, he'd seek out others of his kind? Father's right. I can feel it in my bones.
"He's a wanderer by nature," Jericho explains, his tone almost defensive. "Not everyone fits into neat little boxes, Alpha. You of all people should understand that."
I watch Father's face closely. Uncle Jericho's words have reached him. But then Father shakes his head.
"Mark my words, Jericho," Father says, his voice low and ominous. "In an extre situation, that vampire cannot be trusted."
The vision fades around . But I cling to it, desperate to see more, to understand. Father's face blurs, and I reach out, trying to grasp this mory that feels both familiar and foreign.
Danger, that strange voice whispers again, pulling back to a reality I can't quite grasp. The forest dissolves, leaving adrift in a sea of fractured mories and half-ford thoughts.
Who am I? Where am I?
Lucas. Alpha.
Yes. My na is Lucas. Alpha of… of what? The pack na eludes , slipping from my tenuous grasp of reality.
A face flashes in my mind—a woman with impossibly light, brilliant blue eyes. They hold the secrets of the universe. She smiles, and my heart aches. I want to hold her, but her face fades as everything does here.
I'm Lucas Westwood. I'm... an Alpha? Yes, that feels right. But sothing's wrong. I'm not where I should be.
I'm not who I should be.
Danger. Ava's in danger.
The voice echoes through my mind, a beacon in the fog of confusion. It's familiar, comforting, yet filled with unexplainable urgency.
I grasp at it, desperate to understand why it feels so right, so much a part of .
Don't leave.
Don't leave here alone.
Danger. Ava's in danger.
Ava. The na ignites a fierce protectiveness I can't explain.
Who is she? Why does her safety matter so much?
Ah, yes. I rember now. The blue-eyed woman. Beautiful. She holds the world in her eyes.
Before I can ponder further, images flood my consciousness. Vampires, their faces twisted in feral snarls, lunging at familiar people, though I don't know them. There's blood. It makes twitch, leaves unsettled, and the images fade.
Blood.
Death.
Despair.
And power. Power beyond anything I've felt before…
Then the images return, with a fierce whisper.
They're all in danger.
Pups wail in terror, their cries piercing my heart. They're running.
No, escaping.
I strain to make sense of it all. These people, they're important to . They're... my pack? Yes, that feels right. I'm their Alpha.
I should be there, protecting them, leading them.
But I'm not. I'm trapped here, in this limbo of fractured mories and half-ford thoughts.
My attention snaps to a group of humans huddled near a truck. Among them, a woman with long blonde curls catches my eye. Sothing about her pulls at , demanding my focus. As I study her face, recognition slams into .
Ava. My Ava.
My mate.
The realization brings with it a torrent of emotions—love, fierce protectiveness, and gut-wrenching fear. She's in danger. They're all in danger, and I'm not there to save them.
I'm here, in this strange place of mories that ebb and flow of its own accord. Lost in ti.
We are Alpha.
I struggle against the fog that holds , desperate to break free. I need to get to her, to my pack. They need . Ava needs .
"Let out!" I roar, my voice echoing in the void. "I have to protect them!"
But the fog doesn't yield. It swirls around , taunting with glimpses of the battle raging beyond my reach. I see Ava's face again, determination etched in her features as she faces down a vampire with a giant hole in its chest. Pride swells in my chest, but it's quickly overshadowed by terror.
She's strong, my mate. But she's also vulnerable. Human. The vampire lunges, and I cry out, straining against my invisible bonds.
Rember, the voice insists. Rember your strength. Your power. Your duty.
I close my eyes, focusing on the words.
My strength. My power. My duty.
Images flash through my mind—training with my father, learning to control my wolf, taking my place as Alpha. The responsibilities, the weight of an entire pack on my shoulders.
This voice.
I know this voice.
It's my wolf.
We are Alpha, he growls in my head. We must protect our pack. Our mate. We must wake.
The scene before changes again. I see myself, but not as I am now. This version of is different—stronger. Larger. Primal and raw. Golden, as if the sun itself ca to bless my fur.
Different from the others, my eyes glow with otherworldly light, and my power pulses in palpable waves, throwing weaker enemies to the ground.
Vampires. Humans. Strange wolves without souls. All are the enemy, and I will not let them win this fight.
My people depend on .
They're all fighting, coming as one, too much for any single wolf to take on. But I move with impossible speed and strength, tearing through them like they're made of paper.
Is this... ? Is this what I'm capable of?
Yes, the voice confirms. Our power.
But why? Why would I hide such strength when my pack needs it?
As if in answer to my unspoken question, the scene shifts once more. I see the aftermath of the battle. The vampires are gone, but so is much of the forest around us. Trees are uprooted, the ground scorched. And I'm nearly torn apart, bleeding on the ground. There's so much pain.
My body could not hold onto the power, and it pulverized from within.
I understand now. This power, it's dangerous. Uncontrollable. I locked it away to protect them, to protect myself.
Our body is too weak, the voice agrees. But we are still strong. Get up. We must protect them.
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