Save Me Mr. Alpha

I left the bedroom absolutely drained the next morning. As unfortunate as my circumstances were, I was going to have to adapt if I ever wanted to escape Tyson.

"Do you really want to, though?” That inner thought scared me more than anything else. Being transferred from one prison to another was tough enough, but thinking that I might actually like it was enough to send my heart over the edge.

Walking down the stairs, my hands clenched the large turtleneck tightly. Someone had placed food outside of my room several times, trying to tempt me to eat, but it didn’t seem to affect me. I walked to the kitchen and saw that it was empty and let out a deep breath that I didn’t know I had in me.

I search through the cabinets, looking for something to spur my appetite until I find a loose package of pre-seasoned rice that looked suitable. Honestly, anything with garlic was enough to satisfy me even in the darkest of days. Heart health and all.

I chuckle at the dark thought and subconsciously place my right hand over the long scar on my chest. A small cough comes from behind me and I spin around looking for the intruder. A small, older woman stands in the doorway of the kitchen. She looks at me through small, half-moon shaped glasses which sit on her rosy face as she slowly walks towards me with her knotted cane.

“You must be the Luna, or should I say Cassandra?”

“It’s Cassie.”

“Why shorten such a beautiful name?”

“Why turn a beautiful name into a mark of slavery?” I retort.

“Ahh, so the story is true. Luna turned battered housewife. Finally came home for protection.”

I growl, “I left for my family’s protection. And I stayed for their protection and I will not allow you to think or say that my return was of my own volition or for my benefit. My new imprisonment does not help me in any shape or form.”

“But it helps him and that’s all that should matter between mates.”

“I don’t believe in that crap.”

“You don’t believe in soulmates? What about your parents? Surely you knew that they were destined for one another and that nothing, not even death, would separate the two of them?”

Red edges my eyes, but I take a deep breath, focusing on making my rice dish. I don’t respond to the hateful woman’s question, but let my seething anger consume me instead. When I finish cooking and turn around to respond, the woman is gone and no one watches me. I sigh, mostly in relief, as I try and figure out what to do next.

After picking at my food and eating as much as I can bear, I pack up the leftovers into a Tupperware container I found hidden in a cabinet and walk to the double doors that lined my freedom. I sigh again and open the door, expecting an armed guard to stop me as soon as I touch the golden handle. I look around and see that no one moves to stop me as I take my first step outside since my arrival yesterday in the small town.

I don’t pay much attention to the glooming trees or the stunning waterways that made it seem more like a European bathhouse than a small midwestern town, but I see beautiful flowers all around. Tulips, day lilies, gorgeous ranunculus, plants and flowers that I can’t even begin to identify. I take a few steps out into the garden and wince as a tightness in my chest takes over. I touch my side and remember that while the beatings seemed like a lifetime ago, my body didn’t necessarily agree with that.

I take a few more steps, quickly feeling winded before I take a seat in the cushiony grass and lay back, looking up at the clouds. With the warm summer sun on my skin for the first time in months and at least a space free of bodily abuse, I looked up and dreamed of a way, anyway to escape the man haunting my dreams.

I woke up and found myself in a light yellow bedroom. White gardenias were painted on the walls with green leaves spreading across yellow paint. The room was fresh, bright, and clean. Double doors were veiled behind airy sheers and led out to what looked like a Juliet balcony. Empty golden picture frames sat around the room, waiting for something to fill their empty shells. I could relate more to that than anything else at that moment. I sit up from the comfy bed and see that whoever had moved me had left the room and me, alone. A gentle knock comes at the door and I go to it, afraid of what might be behind.

“Yes?”

“Luna, the Alpha wanted to see if you’d join him for dinner?”

“My name is Cassie. And no, I’m already full from my lunch.”

“I don’t think it was a request.”

“I said no. Now leave." I bark. Footsteps quickly leave the door and after making sure it’s locked, I turn back to the room and explore what I would call my new favorite room of the prison.

Say what you will for Tyson, at least he had good taste. I wouldn’t have done anything differently. I sigh at the thought as I sit in a comfy white rocking chair hidden in a small nook. A table and footstool was near, so I sat down and got comfy. Snagging a brown leather notebook off of the table. Hoping to find a beautiful romance novel to escape into, I open the book and come across dark, cursive scrawl.

“This must be...” I say aloud. My words stop when I notice my name in the pages.

It’s been a year— I stop myself. “This is too private, I can’t read this.”

A knock comes at the door again. “Cassie?” Tyson calls out.

I stay quiet and clutch Tyson’s journal closer to me, afraid what he would do if he knew I started reading it.

“I just wanted to check on you. You gave us quite a scare in the garden earlier, I thought you had fallen and hurt yourself until I saw...”

That I was asleep.

“That you looked so peaceful.” Tyson finishes. I roll my eyes as I picture his hand rubbing the back of his neck at his words. “Anyways, Mom said you weren’t hungry. I’ll put the leftovers in the fridge if you’d like. I’m going to have a pack member bring your things to this room. I thought you might find it more... appealing? Anyways, I hope your day was alright to adjust into and I left something on the table for you to read. I think it might help to explain some things... the room you slept in last night is where I’ll be if you need anything. If you need anything, just come and get me Day or night, and I’ll be there, alright?”

I open my mouth to say something, but only a whisper slips out. “Thank you, Mr. Bergson.”

I hear him sigh and walk away, the soft third of his feet trailing behind him as I turn to his journal. The one he wanted me to read. I sit back in the chair and try to relax as I dive into Tyson’s words.

April 2017: It’s been a year since I met the woman intended for me. Sleep doesn’t seem to exist anymore. Now that I’ve found Cassandra, every fiber of my being has become consumed by her. She’s only been away from me for a year and yet I feel as though there is no hope left.

My team tells me she’s dating someone now, a weak human by the name of Jameson. Jameson, what kind of name is that? Her brothers are off at school, fully-funded of course. Mom said that buying her parent’s house was overkill, but I needed those damn peonies out of that yard. I wanted to burn that house to the ground after she left. I’ve been so angry.

As soon as it was finalized, I walked into that house with an axe ready to destroy every memory of her in this small, small, small town. Everything reminds me of her. Minivans, soccer balls, the smell of daffodils. It all has turned gray since she turned my life upside down. I wanted to burn everything away and forget the woman who was made for me but literally RAN away to escape my love. I walked in with an axe and left with tear stains and a miscellaneous shirt I found wedged behind the dryer in the basement. I think this shirt is the key to sleep. I need sleep. So, so bad.

May 2017: Everything hurts. Her scent barely clings to this stupid shirt anymore and I’m starting to forget what she looks like. My informants bring me photos of her peering out her windows in her big house with her fiance. But she looks different. Smaller, sharper. She doesn’t look like the Cassie that walks thru my dreams like a ghost. I can’t live like this much longer. She’s so close, yet so far away.

August 2017: Something has happened. I don’t know what, but something has happened. I can feel her emotions in my chest for the first time in months, she’s happy. Burning bright in my chest and I don’t know why. Even when she got engaged to that... human, she wasn’t as bright and shining as she is now. I need to know why. Now.

October 2017: I wish I didn’t know. Cassie is expecting a child. A little girl according to my informants. Mom said that I should go to her, talk to her, but I don’t want her to feel pain in her joy. She’s expecting a little girl. A little girl. I love Cassie. I love her so much and one part of me wonders whether I can still love her after this feeling of betrayal. But I forget that she doesn’t feel the same as I do. A child. A little girl. She’s going to be a mother...

I have to stop as tears well in my eyes and threaten, once again, to break free from me. I throw the journal against the wall and clutch my stomach, the pain in my chest overwhelming me as I begin to sob. I crawl to the bed and burrow underneath the fluffy comforter to try and escape the pain of Tyson’s heartbreak intermingling with my own.