Page 10 of Cruel Alpha: Season One

In theory, the lake house nestled beside the water would’ve been the perfect place to settle. It was my parents’ little secret.We’d never visited with friends or family, so no one would even think to look there. Problem is, it’s so well hidden not evenIcan find it.

“Just great,” I say under my breath, perching both hands on my hips when I stop. Not only am I picking up on my own scent, this is also the second time I’ve passed this same dead oak tree.

So, after wandering in the woods for nearly five hours, I’m calling it. I’m officially lost, which makes this the perfect end to the perfect day.

Defeated, I drop to the ground and use the dead oak as a back rest. I’m starting to think I’ll have to make camp here. And by ‘makecamp’, I mean I’ll slump to the side and let my backpack serve as a pillow because I’m exhausted.

An owl hoots from a treetop a few yards away, and I call up my wolf to sharpen my vision. I’m able to see every detail of the bird, and it senses me, swiveling its neck this way. We make eye contact, and as far as birds go, owls are by far the creepiest. Whether it’s the way they seem to stare into your soul or their square heads, they’ve always made me uneasy.

Now, lucky me gets to bunk with one tonight.

I let my wolf retreat and try to doze, but I’m feeling anxious. And not to mention, still hurting on the inside. So much that I’d welcome numbness in a heartbeat.

It isn’t lost on me that, at the root of this entire ordeal, is the fact that no man has ever touched me. While I can’t say for sure that my uncle wouldn’t have been just as eager to make a deal with our alpha, or that Caspian wouldn’t have been as smitten, I’m willing to bet I’d be safe at home in my bed tonight if I weren’t a virgin. Losing it would devalue me in everyone’s eyes but my own, which sounds like a dream.

My purity has become a bargaining chip among powerful men. Well, that, and the fact that I bear the last name Breedlove—a detail far out of my control. However, between the two, I’mseen as somewhat of a unicorn in New Eden. And, quite frankly, I’m sick and tired of it.

I’ve never been in charge of anything my entire life, and I believe one should at least be able to dictate the boundaries of their sexuality. Hell, if I weren’t scared out of my socks to cross the border on my own, I’d make my way to the Springtide Rally in the coming weeks and get itallout of my system. I’ve heard rumors about what goes on there, but haven’t known anyone who’s attended personally. According to my aunt, it’s nothing more than a massive orgy where young wolves do unseemly things to each other, then return home the following week as though nothing happened. She’d also point out that only the‘Filthy East’would even dream of hosting such a thing. But what I’ve heard from others is that, while the Springtide Rally may be all those things Aunt Geneva mentioned, it’s also a rite of passage for young wolves.

Wolves from clans that aren’t as restrictive or repressed as the North, that is.

The thought of it has me tossing and turning, until I eventually give up on rest. I slip both arms into my bag again as I stand, because if I can’t sleep, I may as well try to cover some ground. Provided I’m able to figure out which direction I ought to be traveling.

A tiny, glowing green orb up ahead grabs my attention—a firefly. It reminds me of chasing them through the open field behind our house when I was a kid, back when things were simple, and life still made sense. I walk toward where the bug hovers near a stump, and it doesn’t seem startled. So, I step closer and only now does it begin to flutter away. I take another step, and it moves a bit further. Before long, I realize I’m following this tiny creature that has no more of an idea where the lake house is than I do. Which means, I’ve honestly got nothing to lose at this point.

We’re covering ground, my new friend and me. Before I know it, we’ve reached a tall, chain-link fence, partially hidden by overgrown vines and dead leaves that have gathered at its base. I approach it, wondering what’s on the other side. From here, all I see are more trees, and maybe a clearing not too far up ahead. Stepping back, I consider climbing it, but the barbed wire along the top bar changes my mind. Just as I’m thinking I’ll have to stop and regroup, my trusty new friend flutters her way through an opening I hadn’t noticed before.

It's small, maybetoosmall, but it’s worth a try.

The fence rattles when I shove my bag through the opening and then kneel to the ground. I slip my head through first, then twist my shoulders sideways to fit. To my surprise, I make it fairly easily, and the only damage I’ve sustained is the small tear above my back pocket.

Brushing both palms clean on my pants, I continue straight ahead. The tiny green light is still keeping up and I’m oddly comforted that it’s stuck with me. Guess this is a testament to how lonely and pathetic I’ve become—I make friends with bugs now. Laughing, I shake my head a bit, crossing the tree line into a clearing that stretches on for at least a mile. There are no distinct markers that I’ve noticed, but then I take back that thought, because I spot something.

Calling my wolf forth again, my eyes sharpen, and I make out what I now know to be a sign. One with words printed in bold letters I still can’t quite decipher. I bring my wolf deeper into my consciousness, and the letters become clearer. Only, when they do, my heart sinks as I read them aloud.

“Warning: All trespassers without proper credentials are in breach of Eastern Quadrant legislation. Anyone found in violation of this code must either be turned over to Clan Eris officials or be put to death.”

I stagger back, questioning the legitimacy of the statement I’ve just read.

“Can they… do these things?”

While there are many things I would change about my quadrant, I’d take their oppression and strict rules over the savagery of the East any day. There’s no breath in my lungs as the full scope of the mistake I’ve made weighs heavy on me. Without realizing how far I’d traveled, I’ve crossed enemy lines. And according to this sign, I absolutely cannot run the risk of getting caught.

Scrambling, I race back toward the tree line. My destination is set on that small opening in the fence I never should’ve climbed through. By this point, I’ve all but forgotten about my glowing companion, because I’ve got a one-track mind, and that singular track is focused only on survival, making it far away from this place.

I’m panting, feeling unreasonably paranoid, but then again, maybe it’s not so unreasonable. It’s a known fact that the Eastern border is heavily patrolled, and if that sign I’ve just read is true, Clan Eris are among the most ruthless.

While my thoughts race, both feet get tripped up and I go down. Hard. My stomach and chest slam the ground with a thud, knocking the wind out of me, but I have to get up, have to run before I’m spotted. But as I stand to my feet and get my bearings, my surroundings fly past in a blur, flipping upside down as I’m swooped into a net, getting more tangled in the thick web of rope by the second.

Instinct tells me to scream, but then I remember that’s a bad idea. Because… would I really want to see who’d show up if I called out?

Breathless, I try to ignore what an utter failure tonight has been and think of my next move.

How will I get out of this?

WillI get out of this?

A heavy sense of dread and defeat hit me first, but those emotions quickly scurry when terror sets in. This time, it’s not the random, unwarranted variety.

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