The Alpha's Territory

Chapter 6: A Vision of Vin

Emily's perspective:

* * *

My eyes adjust to the dim light in a shabby, grey room. I know the room well. It was my mother and father's before they died. It used to be such a nice, clean, vibrant place, a place that held so many good memories. Then Mom died and with her, the colors faded, as did the good memories. Only a year later, Dad died. Both unexpectedly. With Dad, what beauty, color, and memories that had remained were ripped away by Vin.

I don't know if the wrath that displaced that once nice, loving character is because Mom and Dad died or because Vin was always the devil he is now, just hiding it until he took power. Maybe the power was too much. Being twins, I feel like I know him better than anyone else could. We've had a special connection since birth. And because of that, I am persuaded that the Vin I know today is some kind of devil that was hiding deep inside, stirred to the surface by his addiction. Whatever it is, there is no excuse for it.

Often, we have had dreams or visions of what each other has done or are going to do or what the other is doing in the moment. Sometimes we initiate it. Other times, it's brought against our wishes by extreme emotions from the other. Like the time I saw Vin make it with his first Cubbie. F*ck, I didn't want to see that sh*t.

The visionary fog dissipates. Rustling in the bed is Vin as he wakes and shoves a naked girl off of each side of him. “Move, b*tches," he grunts and pushes both clear off the bed. I know the girls. They aren't shifters. They are a couple of what Vin degradingly calls Cubbies—non-shifter girls that he has marked.

“Sorry, baby," the one on the right, Ash, apologizes from the floor, while the one on the left, Sage, sprawls out on the wooden planks, too hungover from the night before to care.

“Coffee!" Vin demands. Ash jumps to her feet and leaves the room, still naked.

Vin sits back and rubs both hands over his shaved head before spreading his arm across the headboard and snatching his signature grey beanie from the post. He slips it down past his ears and scratches his long, unkempt, white beard before popping his neck and barking at Sage. “Get up here, Cubbie."

Even in visions, I can't help but flinch at the term. He never calls them by name. It's always Cubbie or, maybe worse, b*tch. That's it. Disgusting.

Sage moans.

“Here! On the bed, now."

Sage crawls from the floor, up under the covers, slithering head first toward Vin's lap. She knows what he wants.

Thankfully, the vision fades and reappears outside of the bedroom.

Sitting at the breakfast table with Vin are his Beta, Terrance, and Gamma, Robert.

“Emily knows she's yours," Vin says to Terrance, running a finger around the lip of his coffee mug. “There was no resistance. She spoke of the deal willingly. Emily has always been willing to obey. But, I am afraid Gabby might not be so easy to convince." Vin looks to Robert. “She's got a lot of fight in her. Still, we'll make it work. We need to make our pack stronger, no matter what it takes. We've been able to take over everyone's land except..." Vin won't say his name.

“Those f*ckin' rogues don't deserve to be in the same valley as us," snarls Terrance.

Robert follows suit. “F*ck'em. When we get the chance, we'll kill'em all."

Vin tips a shot of whiskey into his coffee and stirs the steaming beverage with his finger.

“They've got resources we don't. They've got money we need. We can't take our business to the next level 'til we get rid of that f*ckin' worthless, wannabe Alpha and his sacrilegious pack of rogue a**holes. But make no mistake, they won't be easy to take down. He's got tech we can't imagine, sure, but I'm not worried about that human bullsh*t. That son of a b*tch has their loyalty more than most legitimate Alphas. That's dangerous. We'll have to kill them all because they will die for him. Mark my words." Vin sips his coffee. “And it's his loyalty to them that I hope will be his downfall."

Suddenly the screen door at the back of Vin's quarters bursts open. An adolescent teen of the pack, Benny, runs in and cowers at Vin's feet in fear.

Vin backhands the kid. “Boy. Get the f*ck outta here. G*d d*mn," he chuckles.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but I had to tell you."

“Spit it out."

“Your sisters."

Vin jumps to his feet, flipping his chair onto its back. “What about my sisters?"

“They're gone!"

All three run out the door. The vision fades.

thump-thump, thump-thump… thump-thump, thump-thump… thump-thump, thump-thump…

In the darkness of my vision, my heart beats in rhythm with the pounding tracks of a pack on the hunt. Like blinking my eyes, the vision shifts between darkness and a sprinting triad of wolves. Out front is a signature grey wolf, his coat fading from a shimmering silver to stark white, with eyes so black they plainly reveal the death that waits behind them. He's half a foot taller at the shoulders and at least a hundred pounds heavier than the average grey wolf—Vin. Behind him are two, smaller dull brown wolves with light eyes, panting at the dew misting from the leader's back paws—Terrance and Robert.

I can see where they're going. They're following the false scent we left to throw them off our tracks. My plan is working.

Vin explodes out of the woods into an open field and dashes for a ratty, two-story house he allows a group of non-shifters to live in. He provides protection in return for ninety percent of the profit that these trashy idiots get from making and distributing Vin's Wolfsbane to local, non-shifter junkies—one of Vin's many side hustles. I led him here in hopes that his wrath against them would give us time to get out of Alaska before he can really track us. When he doesn't find us here, he'll try to connect with me through dreams.

The only thing I have going for me is Wolfsbane—the cocaine-like drug that Vin developed and snorts to get a boost of strength and agility. It gives him the extra edge in a fight, but it sends him into fits of rage that have torn our pack apart. I know it weakens his other abilities. He hasn't had a clear vision in at least a year. And through visions, I've seen him coughing up blood in the middle of the night. It's killing him.

Vin stops at the edge of the front porch and throws his head back, letting out a guttural howl. Half a dozen of the junkies come out, armed with .45s, AKs, and shotguns.

“Back off!" their leader shouts.

Vin shifts to human form, laughs, and paces at the bottom of the steps–Terrance and Robert remain shifted, positioned on either side of my brother. “I'm going to give you one chance. Where are my sisters?"

“Who?"

“Don't f*ckin' play stupid with me. We tracked them here. Where are they?"

“I haven't seen your sisters."

“F*ckin' junkies. I knew I shouldn't have trusted you.

“Back off!" says the leader, c*****g his shotgun.

“Someone here has," Vin says, chewing on his bottom lip and wagging a finger at the leader. “You better ask your people."

“No one here has. Now, back off."

Vin shrugs and grunts, “That's fine. Have it your way."

Shotgun fire echoes.

Vin dodges, then leaps through the air, shifting back into his silver coat as he does, and slashes at the man. With one swipe of his paw, Vin tears one half of his body from the other. The man's blood splatters the house's front door as his body thuds against the wooden slats.

The other men on the porch slowly lower their weapons and try to apologize, swearing that they haven't seen me or Gabby. I almost feel sorry for what's about to happen to them. But, then again, they've earned it.

Terrance and Robert pounce onto the remaining men on the front porch and commence shredding them into ground meat. Vin calmly walks through the front door and shifts back to human form. Sniffing at the air, he shouts, “Emily! Gabby! You're safe. Come out." His words and tone offer nothing more than pretentious safety.

His menacing eyes scan the room for any sign of me and Gabby. In a low, gruff voice, face contorting with revelation, Vin expels his frustration. “Motherf*cker."

Vin rotates his head around, cracking the tension in his neck, then rushes over to the recliner on his left, snatches it with one hand, and, twisting his body around, chunks it into the opposite wall. The chair tears through the side of the house and tumbles across the lawn. “F*ck!"

* * *

I sit up in bed, gasping for air. My heart is beating faster than ever before. It takes a moment for me to recognize my surroundings, and when I do, I let out a sigh of relief. I'm safe, for now.