The Alpha's Daydream

The earth is cold and brittle beneath my feet, blades of grass snapping and flakes of snow crunching as I make my way down the paved path.

The brisk air before dawn approaches is biting through my coat, seeping into my skin. But none of this compares to the sharp ache spreading from my chest outwards, radiating through my veins and out to my limbs. A heaviness robs me of breath and I try to gulp in oxygen as I hurry across the lawn and out the estate’s perimeter fence.

I know this pain is Malachi’s, I can sense it through our bond. Through the connection that has been strengthening despite his intentions to remain distant. I feel him and a fraction of the emotions he is going through.

I don’t know exactly where he is, but I feel I am getting closer. These intangible threads tying us together pulse and coil around me, piercing my tender heart with pain, anger, and hate. I nearly buckle under the weight of this last emotion, my feet stumbling over the uneven ground of the forest. Shadows hide the path, just as they cloud my mind and drag me under a sickly haze of turmoil and loathing. I am hating this emotion of such hatred, it is black and red and full of spilled blood, the life-giving liquid pounding in my temples and veins even as I smell it spilling to the earth.

The metallic scent churns my stomach but I keep pressing forward, keep moving forward.

Malachi is in trouble, and the one thing that keeps me running towards him despite my growing fear is the undeniable knowledge that I need to be there for him.

He needs me as much as I need him in this darkness.

A deep growl echoes off the trees in front of me, followed by low grunts that send shivers down my spine and goosebumps all across my flesh. If I was afraid before, I am terrified now. Terrified not for my own safety and what is ahead of me, but because of the unshakable feeling that what I’m about to find might change my life forever.

“You worthless piece of trash.” The throaty growl reaches my ears from a clearing up ahead. Tree trunks still block my sight, but the voice holds familiarity. “You thought you could get away with this disgusting behaviour!”

“And you’re a monster! Please, don’t hurt me—”

The cry for mercy is cut short in a horrible scream, gurgling in the man’s throat and I can only assume his own blood is now drowning his lungs of life.

I urge my feet to continue forward, pushing me into view.

And everything within me wished I hadn’t.

Malachi is crouched down on the bracken forest floor, his back to me, breathing hard in ragged heaves of his torso. A man lies crumpled on the other side of him, partially blocked from my view by Malachi’s powerful silhouette.

However, there is still no mistaking the blood that covers the body and fresh stench of death that hangs in the stillness of dawn. Not even a breeze stirs the leaves, witness to what just took place, but the pieces fall into place as Malachi stands and kicks the body before him. “In the dust is where you belong. Now you can’t hurt anybody else, you filthy mutt.”

“Malachi?” My heart is hammering, thundering in my ears so it is hard to hear my own whisper.

But he does. And he slowly turns around, revealing his arms and chest that are coated in streaks of blood, mixed with dirt to create a canvas so horrifying I can’t seem to draw another breath.

“You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t see this!” he growls menacingly, his eyes narrow slits, and I truly believe that I must be dreaming again. That this is another nightmare.

But the scents are too strong. The cold on my skin is too real. The snow and cracking twigs beneath my feet are too detailed to be a part of my hazy nightmares.

“Is your curiosity satisfied now that you see me like this?!” Malachi yells and motions to himself, his eyes wild and crazed. Crimson flecks dance in his irises as he takes a step towards me.

“Malachi, what happened?” I refuse to back away even as he stalks closer. “This isn’t you.” A thousand thoughts are pushing for recognition in my head, but one stands out.

Demon.

Demons kill for sport, murder people in cold blood. Play games and scare people for the fun of it.

Seneca is a demon.

And she said Malachi wasn’t one. So what am I seeing now?

“Oh, this is me,” he spits, his lips curling back to reveal sharpened teeth, honed to rip apart flesh.

My body now involuntarily takes a step back as he comes closer still, and I cringe at the rough tree trunk behind me that halts my retreat. I am cornered, trapped, threatened by my own mate. I feel the tug of hatred, but it might not just be Malachi’s this time. It is my own. My own hatred...towards him.

“This is the cold-hearted me that refuses to stay buried inside. Aren’t you the one who’s seen it all along? I am a monster!” he raises his fist and slams it into the tree behind me. I wince and shudder against the splinters of wood and his heated gaze, the heat of fear swirling between us, and I can’t stop the small whimper that escapes me.

“You killed him.” I refuse to look at the body on the ground, but we both know who I mean.

“Of course, I did. But would you rather I killed someone innocent? That dog was a vile creature. Utterly disgusting,” he spits to the side, his husky voice dredged with loathing. “I followed his scent of dirty lust and found him sleeping with a woman, someone not his own mate. He was cheating on the sacred mate bond. Smearing it in the dirt like it didn’t mean anything. Just like his blood now. In the dirt where it belongs while his soul rots in hell.”

“So…” my breath comes in quick gasps. “So you punished him? You just killed him for his sins? What gives you the right—“

“I am Alpha!” He responds with vehemence, his hot breath fanning my face as he leans in close, and I squeeze my eyes shut in a futile attempt at protecting myself from the rage I see in his.

“Malachi, get away from her.”

Instantly, Malachi looks over his shoulder, and I recognise the firm command has come from Hamilton.

“That’s it. Step away and calm down. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

I open my eyes and watch the Beta calmly walk towards us, his hands outstretched, palms up as if taming a wild beast. That’s assuredly what my mate is in this horrible moment.

“I’d be careful if I were you, Beta Hamilton,” the Alpha stalks away from me and towards his Beta, his eyes purposefully glancing down at the mangled body between them. “I don’t think I have enough blood on my hands yet.”

The snarky way he speaks, taunting, revelling in what he’s done, is making me feel sicker than I already was. What happened to my angelic mate? This is just my nightmare. This is just the Malachi I dreaded, but have been assured doesn’t exist.

“You have more than enough. And you know you don’t want this,” Hamilton speaks clearly and slowly, and I see the shift in Malachi. He blinks, his crimson eyes darkening to black. He looks at me, his forehead creased in rage, his fists still shaking from the pure black energy that ripped a man to shreds.

“You need to go, Ariella. I’ll clean this up,” Hamilton whispers to me from across the clearing, his eyes still on the dangerous Alpha that stands unsteadily in the centre, his weight shifting from one foot to the other.

“No, I’m staying. Malachi needs me.” I watch my mate as he turns about, his eyes taking in the grisly scene then looking down at his fingers that caused it. At his chest where a stained heart beats out of sync with the beautiful crisp winter morning. Hot blood still thunders in his veins, and I can feel the heat radiating from him as he lifts his tormented eyes to mine.

“Ari—”

“Malachi, it’s okay. You can fight this. You can fight whatever is happening to you,” I bite my lower lip and pray it’s true. I pray whatever has come over him will leave and return my gentle mate to me.

“No, you don’t get it,” he shakes his head, and when he looks at me again, his eyes are azure blue. His eyebrows slash up in a broken expression that further widens the crack in my heart. “This..” he runs both hands through his hair, pushing the dark fringe out of his face. “This is me.” He sinks to his knees, a choked sob torn from his throat and I watch paralysed as he clutches his chest and curses himself bitterly. “This is what I am.” The black fringe that falls back over his face may shield some of his expression from me, but my heart understands the agony behind his cracked voice.

I cross the space between us, the chasm of pine needles, fine flakes of snow, and ghastly splatters of blood that stand out starkly from the beauty of nature. Tenderly clasping his shoulders, I demand his attention.

“Malachi, look at me.”

He lifts his head, eyes of blue rimmed with angst.

“This isn’t you.”

He shakes his head, jaw clenched and lips pressed together as he swallows back the emotion.

“Whatever this is, you can fight it,” I continue, putting as much strength and resolve in my voice that I don’t truly feel. However, I need it to be true just so I too don’t fall apart because of what is happening.

“Ariella,” Hamilton stands close and speaks firmly. “I will deal with this. You take Malachi away from here,” he commands, forcing some sense into this situation that nearly has me crumbling. I grasp onto his strength and calmness, and take a deep breath to fortify myself.

Straining my senses out around us, I hear a small creek trickling nearby, and rise to my feet. Pulling Malachi by the hand, I lead him away from the horror and toward the cleansing water. If his body is cleaned and his mind is cleared, perhaps then I can get some answers. I need to make sense of this.

As soon as the creek comes into view, Malachi walks ahead and steps down the embankment and bends down by the water. I imagine the temperature is near freezing, as ice flakes still litter the forest floor and form small clumps along the water’s edge. As Malachi kneels in the swift flow of water, he splashes the clear liquid up onto his face and neck, washing himself and wiping away the stains of blood on his chest. When some streaks refuse to wash away, instead oozing more red out over his skin, I realise they are his own cuts and he is bleeding from multiple wounds.

Hurrying over and kneeling down in front of him, I try and press my fingers to the gashes before untying my scarf and holding it against the bigger wounds.

He winces at the pressure and turns aside, but I persist and get in his face. “Malachi, I need to stop—”

“No, just let it bleed.”

“What? You’re hurt, and until you heal—”

He shakes his head, pleading for me to fall silent. “Let me bleed. The pain is the only thing reminding me that I’m still human. That I’m not a monster.”

Leaning back on my heels, the cold water seeping up into my slippers and making my legs shiver, I study my mate, at the pain etched into his features. The sun has just breached the horizon, piercing the darkened forest with its promise of light, and it strikes my mate’s face and casts it in sharp relief. I see every freckle and fine line, every crease in his forehead, every tormented truth that must be clawing at his mind. But they are lies. “No Malachi, it’s not the only thing,” I reach out and put my hand on his chest, over the glistening droplets of water that run down his exposed skin. “Can you feel that?”

He places his hand over mine, but frowns, his eyes slowly lifting to meet mine in confusion.

“Can you hear it? Your heartbeat?” I lean closer until I feel his soft breath on my face.

Malachi closes his eyes and presses my hand closer to his chest, concentrating with all his might until his heart syncs with mine. Unsteadily at first, but as mine slows so does his. The rhythm takes over my senses until it overcomes even the early twittering of birds and quiet murmuring of flowing water. “Yes. Yes, I can feel it.”

“Good. Your heartbeat,” I slid my other hand around his neck, drawing his head close so his forehead rests against mine. I need to make him see the truth of who he really is, even if I’m not sure I can believe it anymore. “You’re not a monster, because monsters don’t have heartbeats. Monsters and demons are cruel, cold-hearted, depraved souls. They murder for fun. They ruin innocent lives for no reason. And that’s not you, Malachi. You are kind and gentle. Caring and unselfish. You care for this pack, I know. Everyday you are working to make them stronger, to protect them. You lead them with love, not hate. That’s what makes you human. You’re not a monster.”

Malachi nods, his jaw clenching hard as a tear glistens in the corner of his eye. I can tell he is holding back, trying not to let the tears fall, so I gather him into my arms. Stroking his hair, I press my cheek to his and whisper, “It’s going to be okay. We’ll get through this together.”

I feel him swallow before he pulls back. “I’m a killer. I’m the killer.”

His voice is hoarse and I feel my heart rise into my throat. “Archie?” I mumble, wanting to know this truth, but hating it all the same.

He nods. “I wanted to kill him so bad. The way he was treating women….I couldn’t stop him any other way. I tried not to. For so long, I tried to control myself, but then I just snapped after seeing how he treated you....” he trails off, and I see the conflict in his wide eyes, even as my blood chills in my veins, mirroring the water under us as we stay crouched in the shallow creek bed.

“The others?” I need to know.

Closing his eyes painfully, he gives me the answer. “Robert and Leo.”

“Why? How? I...I kept thinking….” Too many questions tumble around in my head, swarming like angry bees.

“They went over into the restricted zone, the area every wolf knows to keep away from. At the southern part of our border, a large highway runs alongside, and a community of rogues have taken up residence. Robert and Leo were two guards who often patrolled the area. I tailed them one night after some pack members shared their concerns. That night, I found them doing a deal with the rogues. Rob and Leo had been manufacturing drugs and trading them to the rogues to use in clubs and brothels. The drug was not only hallucinogenic and euphoric, but toxic. I also found out they were involved in trafficking. That night, a rage inside me unleashed and I killed them and seven rogues. I didn’t even realise what I was doing. I didn’t even know I’d killed them until much later. When Hamilton matched my DNA to the scene. I was so blinded by this thing inside me that I lost control.”

I shiver at the implication, that Malachi becomes like a completely different person and isn’t even aware of his actions. And I can’t understand why. “But how can this be? Seneca said you’re not a demon.”

“I’m not. I’m an Alpha wolf to the very bone, in every molecule of my body. But what I’ve been learning to control is an evil tendency that is inside, making me want to destroy life and make things miserable. Hamilton has been helping me, training with me to control it,” he hangs his head, unable to meet my eyes as he speaks. “Sometimes, the urge to just tear someone apart is so strong, I can’t help but act. As I said, I never hurt anyone innocent. I’m very careful and protective of everyone. But when I see such evil behaviour going on, it makes me snap and I finally let loose on the rage inside. I’ve only ever hurt those mongrels who are truly deserving, you have to understand that Ariella.”

I nod, not even sure I agree. “So… you’d never hurt….” I can’t bring myself to say it. What this could mean for me is devastating.

“You? Ariella, I would never, ever let myself hurt you. You are the most precious thing to ever exist.” He closes his lips tightly as if he’s said too much, exposed more of his heart than he wanted. “You don’t need to worry. I’m getting better. Stronger. This won’t happen again, I promise.”

“Promise? That’s a strong word.”

You’re a strong wolf, but that strong? I doubted it, no matter how much I want to trust my mate. I want to. Reaching out, I bury myself in his arms and will all this madness to go away. To erase the last hour and go back to lying cosily beside each other in bed, and hold onto Malachi with all my strength so he wouldn’t leave and commit this horrible thing.

He murdered his pack member. Tore his throat out like it was a piece of meat in a slaughterhouse. He has blood under his fingernails from taking the life of others.

But he doesn’t. It’s not him. I’ve seen the darkness in his eyes, and a black soul stare back at me wrapped in the feathers of fallen demons.

Yet, I’ve also seen the crystal purity of his heart reflected in azure eyes, the goodness that is his very essence encased by white wings of an angel. He is my angel, and I refuse to believe he is the demon he thinks he is.

It’s not possible.

None of this makes sense beside one thing.

He is my mate, and nothing can change the bond we share. The connection ordained by God himself, to be each other’s half to make a whole, to share a heart and bond so sacred nothing can tear it apart.

And I remember the time I said I would be by his side forever. That I would understand his heart as much I do my own. So what is my heart telling me? What is it saying about what I feel for my mate?

I lean forward and take his face between my hands and his lips onto my own. Like that first time I kissed him, I kiss him again, full of promise and passion, love and understanding. I will always love my mate and his beautiful heart no matter how much darkness tries to steal it away from me.

Nothing is stronger than the bond of love, and I will fight for us against every demon from hell. If they decide to drag us down and destroy us, I will be fighting with every kind bone in my body. With every fibre of my heart.

The heart I share with Malachi.

As we make our way home, painfully and silently aware of this knowledge between us, I make sure we avoid every watchful eye of pack members. We take a back path through the trees, my hand holding Malachi’s and guiding him along as he hangs his head in pure self-loathing. I hate his defeated and hopeless attitude, but he tells me he and Hamilton have been working hard to control this, to conquer the evil thoughts he fights against. And I believe he will, I just need to make him see it.

Malachi heads straight to the shower and cleans himself thoroughly. By the time he comes out, the scratches on his skin have healed, but the rift in my heart will take a little longer. My eyes follow him as he tugs a shirt on and rakes his hand through his damp hair.

“So what now?” I ask, breaking this tangible heaviness between us.

“Now, I’m going to go with Hamilton and speak to the man’s family about his death,” Malachi sighs and looks at me, his expression oddly blank, resigned even.

“And what are you going to tell them?”

“What we’ve been telling everyone for the last few months.”

Lies.

“That we don’t know who the killer is. They’ll do forensics and Hamilton will change the results like the other times,” Malachi continues, watching me warily as I look at him from under my lashes.

After I don’t say anything for a few moments, he sighs again. “You know we can’t tell them the truth.”

That you’re a demon. But he’s not. Curling my hands into fists, I keep telling myself this.

“They would hate me even more and likely hang me for the crimes. Which I deserve. But until we figure out what’s going on with me, this has to stay between us. You understand that, right Ariella?”

“Of course,” I say, but my mind is someplace else. Were you going to tell me the truth?

“Once we sort this out, I’ll tell you everything. If you still want to hear it.” His voice is a quiet murmur, a thousand things he could’ve said yet I can tell he is holding back. With one hand, he brushes a strand of hair behind my ear while the other reaches tentatively for my hand.

“You’re my mate. I will always want to know everything about you.” No matter how dark and terrifying it is. The truth will always be the first thing I want from my soulmate. I lean into his gentle embrace. And though I am currently drowning in lies and unknowns, I lift Malachi’s hand and press my lips in a kiss on his knuckles. “Take care,” I murmur, finding it hard to meet his eyes.

“I’ll see you later.”

I eat breakfast alone and in silence, but my stomach refuses anything so I settle on a hot mug of green tea. When I feel Malachi head off with Hamilton, I can sense him retreating and shutting me out once again. Too long he has kept me in the dark about what he is going through, and I am beyond frustrated. If only I knew this all earlier, I could do something to help and work out exactly what is going on. I get lost in my head of anger and feelings of betrayal and distrust. He didn’t tell me about this, even if he himself didn’t know for sure what was going on, I at least needed some idea.

However, I can’t stay mad at Malachi for long because of the the breaking of my heart for him. It hurts so much that I just want to run away and scream, yet run to him and cry all at once.

Instead, to clear my thoughts, I spend the day out with various pack members, sometimes Beta Knight, other times Sammy and his little friends. I train and exercise with a smile on my face like I didn’t just uncover the dreadful truth about the Alpha this morning. I smile like I’m not on edge with a hundred new questions plaguing my mind about the future of not only myself, but of the entire DoubleEdge Pack. How do we move forward with this?

I content myself with the assurances that he would never hurt me, how his claim on my neck has bound us both in something he would never disregard. He would only ever want to lay a hand on me in love, not hate.

So when I arrive home before dark and see his tall silhouette leaning against the wall in the foyer, as if he is waiting for me, I don’t hesitate in moving towards him to give him a hug, the bond ever drawing us closer.

But when I am close enough, his hand reaches out and snakes around my neck before pushing me roughly against the wall.

I become paralysed as all the air is expelled from my lungs without my permission. Through this new cloak of suffocating fear, I see his crimson-flecked eyes loom above me as he leans closer, then he speaks in my ear with a guttural whisper.

“It’s about time you came home, darling mate. Ready for some fun?”