Christmas With The Alpha

*** "If I told you monsters were real, would you believe me?" Melody pauses mid-bite, her fork hovering over the plate of lemon tart I just set down for her. She tilts her head, her dark curls bouncing, and narrows her eyes at me like I’ve just sprouted a second head on my shoulders. "Lila, is this another one of your weird dreams?" "I'm serious," I say, leaning over the counter. The scent of cinnamon rolls and fresh bread hangs warm in the air, while the snow starts to fall outside. "I saw it so clearly. I know it was a dream, but it felt so real. I was in the woods, and this creature chased me all the way down to the river. I tried to hide, but it found me." "What happened next?" Melody asks, though her lips twitch like she's holding back a laugh. "Nothing," I say with a sigh, brushing flour off my apron. "I just woke up." Melody shakes her head, her smile finally breaking free. "Girl, your imagination is too wild. I told you to stop watching those nature documentaries before bed. All it takes is one documentary about wolves in the wilderness, and suddenly you're the star of your own animal horror movie." "I'm not joking, Mel," I insist, but even I can hear the note of doubt creeping into my voice. The dream had been vivid, but what did it matter? It wasn't like it meant anything. It's not the first time I've had strange dreams— even though none were quite as haunting as this one. I suppose it comes with the territory. Silverpine might be a small town deep in the mountains, but it has its fair share of myths. When my grandma was still alive, she used to tell me stories about witches in the forest, and shapeshifters who could take the form of any animal they wanted. She told me of howling in the winter which meant a wolf pack was nearby, and how their spirits roamed the town and looked for children to steal. But that was just a myth. The stories were meant to scare children into behaving, and they served their purpose well enough. But even then, I wondered if some part of these stories were rooted in reality. Every myth comes from something real after all, and every bit of magic that used to exist must have found a different way to live now. You could feel the magic in our little town from the moment you arrived, from the Old Bell Tower at the entrance to town, all the way to Whispering Pines Cemetery on the outskirts. You could feel it in the wind, and see it in people’s faces every time they smiled at you. That was the reason why I stayed here even after Nana passed away. Silverpine is my home, and the magic here is unlike anywhere else. Even though a part of me wanted to explore other places, Silverpine would always be home "Fine," Melody says, her fork clinking against her plate as she sets it down and pulls me out of my reverie. "Let's get back to reality. The Christmas festival's in exactly one month, and you have to win the Annual Baking Competition this year. We can’t let Clarissa win for the fifth year in a row." I snort. "We have no chance against her. They might as well just hand her the trophy right now." "Never gonna happen," Melody says, waving her hand dismissively. "You're the queen of the oven. Everyone's gonna be talking about your gingerbread houses and spiced apple tarts. And when you win, we’re going to shove some cookies up Clarissa’s butt and make her eat them.” “You’re a psychopath,” I say. Melody grins, but before she can reply, the bell above the bakery door jingles. We both turn, and my breath catches as my eyes meet him. A man stumbles inside, bringing a blast of icy wind with him. He's tall—like really, really tall—with broad shoulders beneath a torn coat that looks like it has been chewed by a pack of dogs. His long, dark hair is damp with snow, hanging over his face in tangled strands. Mud streaks his boots and pants, and his eyes—when they flash up to meet mine—are sharp and piercing, though his face is shadowed by exhaustion. And he’s so handsome; like Greek God levels of handsome. I can tell that he’s from out of town, because I’ve never met anyone as handsome as him in Silverpine. He moves like he’s trying not to fall, and his clouded eyes seem full of mystery and rage. Oddly enough, he seems familiar, even though I know for a fact that I’ve never seen him before. "Food," he says, his voice low and rough. "I need food." I blink, completely caught off guard by this handsome stranger. "Are you okay? Did something happen?" He scowls, the expression cutting through his weariness. "Just give me food." Something about his tone sets my teeth on edge. I straighten up, trying to shake off the unease creeping up my spine. "We have sandwiches and pastries," I say, my voice curt. "Which would you like?" He leans heavily against the counter, his eyes flicking over the display case without really seeing it. "Whatever's hot." "I'll get something ready," I say, heading to the back. Melody mouths, What the heck? at me, and I shrug. When I return with a steaming pile of sandwiches, he's still leaning against the counter, his hair hiding his face. "Here," I say, handing him the plate. "It's on the house. Just sit down and—" "I don't need your pity," he snaps, taking the plate without looking at me. “How much is it?” I'm too stunned to speak for a moment, but then irritation flares. "Excuse me? You walk in here, dripping snow all over my floor, bark orders at me, and now you're throwing attitude? If you don't want my pity, fine. You can pay for it like everyone else." “Are you f*****g crazy?” he growls. “Do you know who I am?” “I don’t give a f**k who you are!” I snap. “You have no right to talk to me like that. This is my bakery, and you will treat me with respect or get the f**k out of here and find someplace else to eat.” For the first time, he looks directly at me, his eyes blazing with something fierce and unreadable. But then he says nothing. I almost imagine that I see a hint of amusement in his eyes, but he turns away quickly. He drops a wad of cash on the counter, then walks away without a single glance at either of us, leaving me fuming. "Well, that was..." Melody begins, but she trails off, her gaze lingering on the door. "Hot." “Hot?" I repeat incredulously. "Mel, he was an asshole." "A sexy asshole," she says, smirking. "Like, the definition of brooding, mysterious stranger. Maybe he's some secret prince who's been exiled and—" "Don't," I cut in. "Let's just... forget about him. We've got work to do." I glance over at the cash, and I realise he has dropped over five thousand dollars. I stare at the money in shock, confusion washing over me. Who the hell pays five thousand dollars for a couple of sandwiches? --- The rest of the day passes in a blur of kneading dough, decorating cookies, and greeting the usual customers. By the time I'm locking up the bakery, I'm too tired to think about the stranger or his rudeness. I pause outside the bakery and stare up at the pine trees across the road, tinged with snow and swaying with the wind. A snowstorm is closing in on us, and I have to get home quickly. I don’t want to get caught up in this cold. The wind bites at my face as I climb into my old Beetle, the engine sputtering to life before finally roaring awake. I peel off and turn on the radio, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel and thinking about the coming festival as Mariah Carey’s voice fills the car. Deep down, I know Clarissa is surely going to win this year as well. As the mayor’s daughter, she basically gets whatever she wants. When we were in Silverpine High, she was the most popular girl. Every guy liked her, with her golden blonde hair that made her look like she was glowing in the sunlight. I should just give up. Maybe this year should be my last. But Nana always loved the baking competition, and she always dreamed of winning the trophy. If I could just win it once, then it would be enough to honour her memory. But Clarissa is still there… The car sputters once again, but this time it doesn't recover. The engine dies, and I coast to a stop at the side of the road. "For f**k’s sake!" I groan, smacking the steering wheel. The snowstorm howls as I step out of the car, the world a blur of white and shadow. I wrap my coat tighter around me and step out, pulling my phone from my pocket. No signal. Great. I'm about to pop the hood when something catches my eye. A faint, silvery light flickers in the woods, like a lantern swaying in the wind. It's distant but steady, glowing against the dark trees. For a moment, it looks like it’s coming towards me. But then it disappears amongst the trees. My pulse quickens at the sight. Logic says to stay by the car and wait for help, but curiosity pulls me toward the light. It's stupid, I know, but my feet move anyway, crunching through the snow as I step into the forest. The light flickers again, much farther this time. I follow it, my heart pounding. The deeper I go, the quieter the world becomes, the storm muffled by the thick trees. Then I hear it suddenly—a low, guttural growl. I freeze immediately. The light vanishes, leaving me in near darkness. My breath clouds in the air as the sound grows louder and closer. I turn around intending to run away, but something crashes through the underbrush. A gigantic beast appears in front of me, its eyes glowing faintly in the dark as it growls and barks at me. I bolt without thinking twice, the snow slowing my steps as I race through the forest. The creature's growls thunder behind me, closer with every second. My lungs burn, my legs ache, and I scream out for help. It’s exactly like my dream, and I’m afraid I’m going to die. “HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!” But then, suddenly, a deafening snarl splits the air, and something shoots past me. I open my eyes to see a large black wolf crashing into the beast and knocking it away. I trip on a tree root and fall as the wolf leaps onto the creatures back and clamps down on its neck. The two wrestle in the snow, and I stare in awe as the wolf chases the bleeding creature away before turning to face me. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. It must be a dream. I’m still asleep. That’s the only explanation. The wolf slowly makes its way towards me, and it stops mere inches from my face. It’s so close that I can smell the musk on its coat, and see the golden fleck in its eyes as it bares its canines at me. I hold my breath and wait for it to attack me, knowing that wolves are not merciful creatures. I brace myself for the bite, but it never comes. That’s when I open my eyes slowly, and see the wolf staring blankly at me. It tilts its head to the side, and something about it looks familiar. But then it turns around suddenly and flees into the woods, leaving me shaking with a bruised knee and a cut lip, and more terrified than I’ve ever been. What the hell just happened? ***