Chapter 18
Alone Again
Alexa
The rain falls like a natural shower from the sky. My clothes and pants are soaked through, the cold water piercing every pore of my skin until my body trembles uncontrollably.
My steps are slow and aimless as I trudge along the slippery, muddy road at the edge of the small town. No one dares to leave their houses at night. No one wants to cross paths with the magical creatures they assume are nothing more than violent thugs.
The dim streetlights blur behind the curtain of rain, glowing like smeared halos that hurt to look at. I wrap both arms around myself as tightly as I can. My sobs break free, but the sound is swallowed whole by the relentless roar of the downpour.
“It’s over.”
“No, it ain’t. This is just the start,” Mythril says, her voice sharp with excitement. “You can finally shift all the way now.”
“But Gabriel is hurt.”
“Oh, come on. He’s a wolf shifter. He’ll be back on his feet in a few days,” Mythril says, brushing it off like it’s nothing.
“They know what I am now. They know I’m a monster.”
“You’re a Lycan, not a monster,” she snaps. “There’s a difference.”
My sobs keep coming, mixing with the rain until I can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.
I try to cling to the brighter side of this reality, but the truth presses down on me.
Those Alphas were afraid of me. Even Alpha Romero’s eyes had widened with fear.
How could any of them ever want me as their mate?
Mythril lets out a tired sigh, the kind that says she’s had enough of my spiraling thoughts. She stops responding, retreats from my rambling, and fades back into my subconscious. Now that the chain is gone, she is freer, stronger, no longer bound to stay.
It feels wrong. Once the magical restraint disappears, the loneliness hits harder.
Now that I can control my power, Mythril is no longer forced to linger and listen to my restless thoughts.
She comes and goes as she pleases, leaving me alone in the rain, as if my presence is something she would rather avoid.
* * *
Six years ago
On the night of the first full moon after I turn eighteen, I stand with several other teens at the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea. We are waiting for our first awakening ritual, the air heavy with salt, nerves, and quiet anticipation.
“Ready, Alexa?” Gabriel walks up to me, his voice low and steady.
“I’m not sure. I’m nervous,” I say, biting down on my lower lip.
My heart pounds hard in my chest as dread coils around the thought of my blessing ritual.
The night wind cuts through me, cold enough to raise goosebumps along my arms and lift the fine hairs at the back of my neck.
My stomach throbs where I was injured earlier that day, a sharp reminder of how weak I am, and the ache only adds weight to the fear crowding my thoughts.
What if I turn out wolfless? What if my wolf is weak? How do I live through the shame if Gabriel decides I’m not strong enough to be his Luna?
He studies me in silence, his eyes glowing faintly as they catch the full moon’s light. I can’t read his expression, can’t tell what he’s thinking. I only know that something feels off, like the night itself is holding its breath.
The ritual begins when I kneel on the grass alongside the other teenagers.
Mrs. Geeny, the healer and my teacher in the Silver Moon Pack, stands before us.
Lorraine kneels beside me, close enough that I can feel her presence.
We bring our hands together at our chests and close our eyes, following Mrs. Geeny’s calm instruction.
“O Moon Goddess, bless them with your love. For every blessing is your will. O Moon Goddess, grant them your gift. For every gift is their strength.”
She repeats the chant, her voice rising with each cycle, steady and resonant.
Slowly, the tight knot in my chest begins to loosen.
The words sink into me, just like my father always said they would.
The mantra draws me inward, guiding me toward my subconscious, toward the first meeting with my wolf.
* * *
I walk through the trees until my steps slow and stop in front of a small waterfall. Silvery water pours down the rocks, catching the moonlight and scattering it back like a sky full of stars.
My mouth falls open as I take in the view. Drawn closer, I step toward the edge and then notice a woman bathing beneath the falls.
She swims toward me. In a blink, she rises from the water, her bare body revealed in smooth, elegant lines, every curve balanced and sure. Her long, straight black hair spills down to her waist. A soft, shimmering glow surrounds her, and for a moment, I think I am looking at an angel.
She’s stunning. Her eyes are round and bright, their golden irises rich like warm honey. Her lips are rosy, full, the color of ripe strawberries.
Up close, she’s even more captivating. She shows no trace of shyness, holding my gaze as she steps nearer. My heart stutters, and I look away, my eyes dropping to her feet.
“Took you long enough,” she says, pouting, clearly annoyed.
“Uh, sorry,” I murmur, the apology slipping out before I can stop it.
She lifts my chin with a wet finger, firm and commanding. “Look at me. What’s your name?”
“Alexa Dawson,” I whisper, my breath catching.
Even her touch carries a scent of vanilla and jasmine. I lift my head and meet her gaze fully. She’s taller than me. I stand at five foot six, while she must be closer to six one, all long legs and lean strength.
Her eyes rake over me, sharp and assessing, as if she’s peeling back my thoughts layer by layer. Then she scoffs.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me. You’re just a weak little girl.” She turns away. “Come back when you’re stronger. I’m out.”
My eyes widen, my chest sinking at her words. “No. Wait.” I rush after her and, without thinking, grab a fistful of her long hair. She cries out, and I release it instantly.
“How dare you,” she snarls, spinning back toward me.
“I’m sorry. I just… you were leaving like that.” My hands clutch the skirt of my dress, knuckles tight. “Maybe I’m weak. Maybe I don’t deserve you. But please, give me a chance. I need you.”
She turns her face away again. “Don’t push it. You can’t handle me like this. Train more first.”
“Please.” My voice wavers, desperation creeping in. “I can’t go back without my wolf.”
After the ritual, everyone is supposed to transform and run the borders all night. I need my wolf. I need to become strong, fast.
She crosses her arms. “Let me guess. You just want to parade me around, prove something, right?” She lets out a short laugh.
“Is that really so bad?” I meet her eyes, forcing the words out. “I just want them to see I’m not as weak as they’ve always said.” I bite the inside of my cheek. Heat floods my face as tears threaten, but I hold them back.
She’s my only way forward. I need her. I need the strength that comes with a powerful wolf born from pure Alpha blood.
She blinks, clearly taken aback by my resolve. “Alright. I get it now, you stubborn girl. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” A smirk curves her lips.
She shoves me with her slender hands. A rush of joy and anticipation surges through me, bright and overwhelming.
Yes. Finally. I have my wolf.
* * *
“Look at that! What is that?”
Gasps ripple through the crowd. Wide eyes, frozen faces, mouths hanging open in horror. Screams tear through the night from every direction.
“Run! Get out of here!”
I don’t understand why they are so afraid. My body burns like it has been set on fire from the inside. Pain floods every inch of me, sinking deep into muscle, bone, even the roots of my hair.
It feels like every strand is being ripped from my scalp. My ears ring. A sharp, unbearable agony rips through my chest.
My breath comes in broken gasps as I stare at my hands. They swell, growing massive, swallowed by thick black fur. Claws burst from my fingertips, tearing through skin and nail alike. I howl, the sound raw and torn from my throat.
The world spins, too bright, too loud, too fast. I’m dizzy, desperate. I need the pain to stop.
“Someone, please help me.”
I roar, swinging my enormous arms, reaching for anyone. Instead of comfort, people scatter, screaming as they run.
“Help!” Lorraine shrieks and collapses to the ground. She stares at me, shaking, unable to stand. “No. Stay away from me. Don’t come near me, you monster!”
The shock on her face is sharp and cruel.
“Take her down!” Gabriel’s voice booms across the clearing.
He and the warriors shift, their bodies snapping into wolf form as they surround me, tense and ready to strike. No. I don’t want to hurt them. I never wanted this.
“Stop! Everyone back up!”
My father steps forward, his voice cutting through the chaos. He plants himself between me and the others, refusing to move.
“Hold her down.” Mrs. Geeny shouts as my vision blurs at the edges.
“Save my baby!” My stepmother, Mrs. Gertrude, cries out, panic breaking her voice.
I don’t realize at first that Mythril’s overwhelming aura is what keeps Lorraine frozen in place.
“Filthy Omega,” Mythril snarls through my lips.
My right arm lifts against my will, claws stretching long and razor sharp.
“No!” Lorraine wrenches herself free at the last second, turning to run just as Mythril slashes. The claws rake across her back, shredding fabric and flesh. Blood spills, soaking her torn red dress as she screams and collapses to the ground.
“Back off, Alexa. She’s not your enemy.” My father growls, teeth clenched.
His wolf bares its fangs, the sound of grinding teeth loud and threatening. Then I lunge.
I swing at his leg, but he leaps back just in time. As he prepares to strike my back, I spin faster. My fist slams into his stomach, forcing the air from his lungs. I swing again, but he rolls away.
He retaliates with a low kick that connects, though it barely rattles my massive frame. I pivot and punch him square in the face. Blood spills from the corner of his mouth, yet he doesn’t stop.
Just before I can strike again, my father lunges forward and bites into my waist. Mythril roars, pain tearing through us both. I grab his waist with both claws.
I’m stronger. Bigger. Younger.
My father is an old wolf, his strength long faded.
With a brutal swing, my fist crashes into his stomach. My claws tear deep into his flesh.
“Father. No.”
Panic crushes my chest as I scream inside my mind.
“Please... Stop!”
She doesn’t listen. Tears stream down my face as darkness creeps in.
Blood pours from my father’s mouth. Gasps erupt around us. Gabriel shouts orders, panic breaking through his authority as the guards rush to circle us again.
My father doesn’t move, except for his arms, which tighten around me, holding me in place.
“Mrs. Geeny. Now.” His voice is strained as he restrains me with everything he has left.
Suddenly, someone grabs me from behind, locking me in place. I’m pressed between a warm chest and my father’s bloodied claws digging into my arms. A sharp scent of mint and calming pine fills my lungs.
Who is this?
“Breathe, Alexa. Slow it down.” Mrs. Geeny appears beside me, her voice steady, grounding, echoing in my ears.
The pain begins to fade, though my breathing stays heavy and uneven. My body trembles, heat flaring beneath my skin, threatening to erupt again. I force myself to inhale deeply, following her command.
“For every wolf that is chained, another will be free,” she whispers, squeezing my hand.
Somewhere deep inside, Mythril’s voice curls with irritation.
“How dare she bind me. This is on you, Alexa Dawson. I told you you weren’t ready.”
She sighs, sharp and dismissive.
“But…” I whisper weakly.
The world fades to black.
* * *
I do nothing except lock myself in my room and cry. I lose track of time. The night slips by without me noticing. When I’m too exhausted to cry anymore, I sit frozen on the floor, staring at nothing.
Someone knocks on my door several times. I don’t have the strength to answer. Eventually, a female servant enters, her nerves written all over her face.
I barely remember what happens next. Somehow, she guides me to bathe, then helps me into mourning clothes. A black dress. A black cloak. Black lace gloves. A sheer black veil pulled down over my head.
She hands me a glass of water. She offers her condolences, soft words meant to steady me. I manage a weak smile in return. I take one or two sips and give the glass back. Half conscious, or maybe half carried, I make my way down the stairs.
“Alexa.”
Gabriel steps into view. We reach for each other at the same time. I collapse against him, my full weight sinking into his chest. He holds me tightly, one hand stroking my hair, the other resting at my nape, over and over.
“It’s gonna be okay,” he murmurs.
“No. It’s not.” I sob into his chest. “It’s not okay.”
My voice cracks as my lips tremble. I can’t stop the tears or the pain. I wish it’s all just a nightmare, but the realization hits me hard.
“My father is dead. I did this. This is all my fault.” The words tear out of me, broken and relentless.
I don’t know how much time passes. When my crying finally slows, he gently urges me to attend the funeral ceremony at Edelweiss Hill. I don’t know how I survive it.
The ceremony blurs through tears. Gabriel keeps one arm steady around mine, guiding me as I lean against him. People come and go, offering condolences, their voices fading into meaningless noise.
“Poor girl. How come a weak little girl turned into a monster like that?”
“She couldn’t control her wolf because she’s too weak. She turned into a monster.”
“What should we do about her?”
“We should ask the elders to persuade Gabriel. He’s the Alpha, he should do something about it.”
“Mrs. Gertrude must be so unlucky to marry into a cursed family like the Dawsons and have to take care of her.”
I keep crying. I don’t look at their faces. All the while, their voices whisper, drifting into my ears, but I don’t mind.
There is only one thought left in my mind.
I killed my father.