Save Me Mr. Alpha

I wake up quickly, my eyes flying open, looking for James, I half expected him to burst in the door, telling me that it was all a dream and start burning the last bit of the fabric from my duvet, the only thing that allowed me to sleep peacefully. Noticing my surroundings, everything flows back into my head. I was back in Northbrooke. I was safe from James. Tyson saved me. Tyson.

Tears well in my eyes, but I push them aside realizing that I had other things to focus on than the man who messed with my plans. I climb out of the large bed and onto the soft carpet. I ignore my surroundings as I focus on my next goal. My brothers.

I change quickly, shedding the torn green dress that I was wearing last night. Beads hit the floor as I climb into the shower, tears start to fall to my feet as the water pours over my body. Sobs don’t escape like they did last time, no, I was too strong for the past to repeat itself. I shake off the water, allowing my head to be empty, clear, and only focused on contacting my brothers.

I wrap a fluffy towel around my body, quickly entering the bedroom where a large closet waits for me. I open the doors, half expecting to see clothes similar to the ones James had chosen for me, but instead I saw comfortable sweaters, socks, fuzzy t-shirts, and something I had missed over the last two years. Jeans.

I pulled the fabric to me, clutching them to my chest. I sigh, rubbing the soft, warm material to my face. I quickly go through the drawers looking for underwear. I find a drawer filled with lacy delicates and my nose scrunches at the thought of having to wear the scratchy material. I look for the softest set, ones that actually covered my rear, before quickly pulling them on, followed by a bra that was my size. I didn’t want to think about how Tyson or someone else knew my size. I pull on a striped cable-knit sweater, thankful that there were warm clothes for the cold winter months coming quickly. I pull on socks, skipping over shoes, and I go back to the fancy bathroom where I find a brush along with more intimate feminine things that make me blush as I imagine Tyson going and buying the correct brand of tampons and pads. I shake my head, knocking water from my head as I try and focus on the task at hand, not Tyson.

I take a deep breath and look in the mirror.

My hair is still limp from months of malnourishment and I was unnaturally skinny and pale. My bruises and scars were hidden by the long sleeves of the sweater, all except one. The line is thick and ragged, running down my chest from my collar bone and down to halfway across my stomach, where it ended in a crooked curve. I look around for some makeup, wanting to hide the terrible scar under layer upon layer of makeup, but there was none to be found. I take in a deep breath, allowing myself to accept the fact that there was no hiding my past life from Tyson, he was going to either figure it out or force it from me.

I leave the sanctuary of my room and make my way down the stairs. I look around, noting the beautiful colors and selection of furniture, it was like I had picked every single thing out of a magazine and hand designed what was my version of a perfect home. I follow the wooden floors to a kitchen with red walls, bright white subway tile and light cabinets. Tyson was nowhere to be found. I let out a sigh.

One less complication to add in.

I look around, searching for a phone, a laptop, some way to contact my brothers. It was a Saturday, they were due to call at any moment, and if I missed the call I knew they would freak out and worry over nothing.

In the past it wasn’t nothing when you didn’t answer, they just don’t know that. I remind myself.

I hear a door open and I flinch, immediately responding to James’ entry, but it’s not James, my body remains tense as a woman looks at me curiously. She has thick brunette hair, and light colored eyes, she looks me up and down, freezing on the large scar on my chest, but she’s not rude about it. “Are you doing alright, Cassie?” she asks me. I nod and then she steps back out of the French doors leading to a large patio. I hear soft voices and a low growl emanates through the entire house, shaking me to my core. I wince and look up to see a frustrated Tyson combing his shaggy, sandy brown hair backwards. He needed a trim on his hair, and it looked like he hadn’t slept, a five o’clock shadow appearing on his face. He looks me up and down with a smile, until he looks at my chest, letting out a snarl at the ghastly scar on my chest. I flinch at his reaction and he growls again, stomping his way over to me.

“Did he do this to you?” he demands. I don’t respond. I look down, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“I-I...” I try and distract his attention anywhere else except the scar.

“Answer me, Princess.” I freeze at the name, looking up at him. He wraps his arms around me.

“He’s a Prince, next in line for the throne, you’re a Princess and about to become Queen over about 10 million werewolves.” Babe’s voice rang through my head.

“No.” I let out a whisper. “I don’t want this, I don’t want you, leave me alone...” I hiss, flinching back, pushing my way out of his relaxed arms. I stumble backwards, and the panic and pain starts up again. Fire courses through my bones, I feel my joints cracking and popping as I pull myself into a familiar ball.

Tyson lets out a yell, I can’t understand what he’s saying, but I understand one thing, he’s panicked and scared, maybe even more so than I was. My vision wobbles, but I focus my sight on everything, but Tyson and the fear, the pain, the heat washes over me in waves, becoming bearable once again. The room begins to fill with people as the pain begins to fade. I let out a sigh as I feel the last bit ebb away.

“What is wrong with her?” I hear Tyson ask, his voice cracking as he says her. A woman walks over to me as I lay on the floor and I push myself back into the corner of the kitchen, wary of her. She’s vaguely familiar, like I had met her before.

“Luna, you met me when you were in the car accident, I cleaned your wounds before you—left.” The woman says softly. I nod, remembering her finally. “May I please examine you?”

“No.”

“What about the pain, if I examine you I can probably get the pain to stop.” She gives me a caring look and I shake my head.

“The pain has stopped.”

She looks shocked, her eyebrows raised in surprise, her lips parting ever so slightly. She turns back to Tyson who glares at the woman.

She turns back to me. “I would still like to examine you.”

"No.” I snap, my voice filled with authority. ”Leave me alone.”

Every back in the room except for Tyson and I’s straightens up and they file out of the room, their eyes downcast at the floor. I look to Tyson, confused by everyone’s reactions. Tyson merely smiles at me, his eyes flooding with what appears to be—pride.

Pride, it was an emotion I was very familiar with. When I graduated college, my parents and I were proud, when I watched my brothers single-handedly win the state soccer championship I was proud, whenever James saw envy from his friends for not having me, he was proud. Pride. Disgusting pride.

“What did—”

“You used your Luna Command for the first time.” He smiles.

“No I did not.”

“You can’t deny the Luna command, I witnessed it, you may not accept me now, but you’re accepting your responsibilities in the pack, and that means you’ll start accepting me as well.”

I snarl, standing up, pulling myself off of the floor.

“I don’t want you or these...”

“Werewolves?” he smirks.

“Freaks.” I snap. His face draws blank, but his eyes show how badly my insult hurt him. “I want to go home, I want my garden, my peonies, I want my brothers, and I want to go back to when you weren’t in my life!” The words hurt my chest, and I could feel Tyson’s pain edging into my own emotions. He puts on a blank face.

“I am your home, Princess, you just haven’t seen it yet. As for your brothers, there’s a phone on the counter for you to use, give them a call, tell them that you’re back in Northbrooke, I’ll leave you to talk to them.”

Suddenly a wash of pain floods my body, but I refuse to allow my body to collapse again, my vision wavers, and I see Tyson pause as he’s walking away.

“I can make it go away.” He mumbles.

“No, it’s fine, I can handle it.” I stand up straight, feeling the heat rolling down my body. Tyson walks over to me and puts his hand on my arm. Tingles start to run through my body, pleasure filling my mind as I melted into Tyson’s touch. He wraps his arms around me and I feel my eyes roll back from the exhilarating feeling. I wrap my arms around him, hugging him and Tyson leans down, his nose in my hair, inhaling deeply. He lets out a low groan, smelling my hair and pulling me tighter to his chest.

“What in the—oh!” a woman cries out. I open my eyes and look to see the same woman from before staring at us in shock. I push Tyson away, wincing as the tingles disappear and a low simmer starts on my body.

“Mom!” Tyson whines. I look at them in shock. Tyson and the woman most definitely shared a deep resemblance. Tan skin, deep dimples on the left side of their faces, a smattering of freckles across their noses, and of course, the hazel eyes that haunted my dreams. “We were having a moment.” I look at him and realize that his lips hadn’t moved, he had said that in his head.

“I’m sorry, Son.” The woman replies, her words appearing in my mind again. I flinch back in surprise.

“Stop doing that!” I demand.

They both look to me. “Doing what, Princess?” Tyson asks. “Speaking in my mind, stop it!” I snap.

They look at me in shock. “Princess—”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!” I yell, my anger rising out of my chest.

“Cassie, you shouldn’t have been able to hear that.” Tyson explains.

I growl at them. “Well, that’s just great. Leave, I’m going to call my brothers and figure out this mess.” I grab the lone phone off of the counter and run away from Tyson and his mother. I escape back upstairs, trying to remember where I had slept last night. I duck into a room and stare at the phone, dialing Chase’s number from memory.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

“Hello?”

“Chase, it’s Cass.”

“Cass! We tried to call a few minutes ago, but you didn’t answer! It went straight to voicemail, we were starting to get worried, did James forget your phone in the car again?” I flinch at his name. “Charles, it’s Cass!” Chase yells out to the background. I hear a scuffle and laughter and I smile softly at my brothers. I begin to pace in the room I entered, waiting for the twins to pull themselves together in a way I could understand.

“What are you doing?” Charles asks.

“That’s the thing, boys I have some things to tell you.” I take a deep breath and begin to tell them the story of Tyson fetching me from James. I leave out James’ abuse and possible death and tell them about my return to Northbrooke.

“Wow.” Is all Chase seems to be able to say as Charles drops swear words in the background.

“We’re coming home in a few weeks and we can help you figure this all out.”

“Christmas isn’t for two months, why are you coming home so soon?” I ask suspiciously.

“Thanksgiving—” Charles yelps. I roll my eyes.

“Charles, Britain doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving.” I remind him. I hear a smack and assume that Chase just smacked him. “Boys, what is going on?”

“Nothing, Cass, we just miss you and decided to take advantage of midterms week ending on Wednesday for us, so we booked a flight home.” Charles says softly. I sigh and smile at my boys’ thoughtfulness.

“Alright, I look forward to seeing you boys.”

“Alright, well we have to go since we know you’re not on wifi and this is actually costing you money.” Chase yells. I nod, but realize that they can’t see my head bobbing up and down.

“I love you.” I whisper, tears welling in my eyes.

“Love you too!” they chorus. I hang up the call and my heart feels heavy. I look around the room and realize that this was not the room I slept in last night. The walls were a light, warm brown, with cream scallops lining the room. Beautiful paintings of deer and woodland creatures hung around the room, a white rocker with a fawn patterned cushion sat in one corner, a white crib sat against the middle of one wall, the name Bergson spelled out in beautiful letters above. I continue to look around and see a changing table, a bassinet, a rocking horse in the shape of a deer, a beautiful nursery all together. Tears fill my eyes, a beautiful nursery meant for a beautiful baby girl. I walk over to the rocking chair and take a seat, looking around the room.

I rub my stomach, a pain filling my chest as a wave of heat tries to overwhelm my body, but the emotional pain far outweighed the physical pain.

I sat on James and I’s bed, a smile lighting up my face, I was glowing, a healthy warm glow and I had news for him, very exciting news. I hear a door slam below and I let out a sigh. He must’ve had a bad day at the office. “Cassandra!” he yells.

“A very bad day.” I mutter aloud.

“Up here, darling!” I call, looking down at my stomach. You couldn’t see it unless you searched, but I knew that the extra bunch of pudge in my stomach wasn’t from the breakfast burritos I had been craving earlier. Mainly because the nauseousness made me throw them up, but still.

James enters the room, a dark look in his eye as he throws his briefcase to the floor and kicks off his Italian loafers. He throws himself on the bed, face first, falling onto the soft duvet cover.

“Hello, Dear.” He mumbles, his eyes closed, the words garbled in the blankets. He flips over and gives me a small grin. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.” He gives me an apologetic look and I just roll my eyes at him.

“It’s alright. I finally went to the doctor today about my stomach pain.”

“And what did they say, are you alright?” he asks, his head shooting up to look at me with concern. I chuckle at him.

“I’m fine, I’m great in fact, we’re both fine actually.”

“We’re?” he asked confused at my wording.

I pull out a bag from underneath the bed and hand it to him. He frowns and looks curiously at the bag.

“Open it!” I encourage.

He opens the bag and pulls out a large shirt.

“World’s Best Farter, I mean Father.” He reads aloud. He freezes and turns to me.

“Seriously?” he asks, his face lighting up. “Seriously?!” he yells as I nod. He picks me up and spins me around. I squeal and giggle in delight. He sets me down and my head spins.

“Ugh,” I moan. “I feel sick again.” I run off to our ensuite bathroom and begin to throw up in the toilet. James follows behind me and pulls my long blonde hair back from my face. A few minutes later I was finished and we sat on the bathroom floor, hands and legs intertwined.

“So this explains the sickness and the mood swings.” James teases, putting his hand on my stomach and peering down at me. “My little girl is throwing a fuss just like her mama.”

“I am not moody!” I say with a laugh. “And how do you know it’s a girl? We don’t find out for a couple more months!”

“I don’t, not really at least, but I want a Princess to raise, I have my Queen, now I just need a Princess to wrap me around her finger as well.” He grins, a smirk appearing on his face as I wince at the poor joke.

“Well, Daddy, I think she or he will have you wrapped around their little finger no matter what.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” He mumbles, kissing my stomach and laying his head in my lap, looking at my stomach. “I can’t wait to meet you.” He whispers. I grin and nod, combing my fingers through his soft hair.

“Me too.” I say softly. I freeze. “James,”

“Yes Dear?”

“I need to—” I shove him off of my lap and proceed to vomit in to the toilet, with him holding my hair the entire time.

I look around the beautiful nursery that looked like it had walked out of my dreams, it was beautiful, but I didn’t know its purpose. Does Tyson have a child? I wonder to myself. I let out a sigh before escaping the room, the memory, and making my way back down the hall and to the room that I had actually stayed in.