The Alpha And The Angel

9_Finding A Feather

Ariella POV

Ruth’s clothes fit me almost perfectly. The shirt is a little too tight for my liking and the jeans a little bit loose. But beggars cannot be choosers and walking around naked is not an option.

I exhale deeply and sit on the bed. I am nervous about this talk with Cole. It can only be about one thing: my presence here. There is no denying that we have chemistry but that does not mean anything. The chemistry can explode and evaporate until there is nothing left of it.

I need to be rational and objective about my situation. I am a homeless stranger, and he is the alpha of a pack. He has responsibilities and duties and that does not include me or my wellbeing. I am a burden. Keeping me here means using their resources to keep me alive. I cannot expect that he should take care of me.

“I am so screwed,” I grunt and push my fingers through my hair while I stand up and walk towards the window.

Something on the floor catches my eye and I pick it up - a feather.

“Impossible,” I whisper and spin the feather between my fingers. I told Cole my name was Ariella because I liked it and it felt natural. I did not tell him that because I believed an angel or whatever visited me. It had to be a dream. No other explanation makes sense, and still … I am holding a feather.

There is a rapid knock on the door, and for reasons I cannot explain, I tuck the feather under my pillow before Cole walks in.

“Are you ready?” He asks politely and I nod.

His crisp white shirt and jeans fit like a glove and my mouth turns dry. The shower was a waste of time, I still want to do bad things with him.

I am too nervous about our pending conversation to make small talk as I follow him down the stairs to the dining room. But my eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when we enter. The table is filled with every imaginable breakfast food I can think of.

“How many people are having breakfast?” My mouth starts watering as I stare at the food.

“Just you and me,” he smiles, pulls out a chair and motions for me to sit. “And since you don’t know what you like, I ordered everything.”

“But that’s a waste,” I blurt out. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to sound ungrateful. I do appreciate the gesture.”

“Nothing will go to waste,” he reassures me as he sits down. “What we don’t eat, will be wrapped and taken to the caring facility.”

“Good,” I say relieved. “It would be sinful to waste all of it.”

“Try this,” he hands me a bowl with bacon.

“Thank you,” I accept it, and take a bite.

“This is terrific,” I look at him as the flavours explode in my mouth.

Cole insists that I try a bite of everything, and I oblige until it feels like my stomach is going to explode.

“Tell me about the facility,” I invite as I drink my orange juice.

“It used to be a retirement centre,” he explains. “But with the increase of vampire attacks, our number of orphans and injuries increased as well. Now there are sections for orphans and wolves who can no longer take care of themselves due to injuries.”

His words are like a bucket of ice water tossed over me, and my dream instantly haunts me. The more he tells me about the vampires, the clearer it becomes that it is not a dream. Somehow, I am connected to Raquel and her message is simple: kill the vampire king. I might have amnesia, but I do have a purpose and sitting here eating like a queen is not it.

“Are you alright?” Cole asks concerned. “You’re a little pale.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I wave it off. “I ate too much, but everything was delicious, thank you.”

“Excuse me, Alpha,” Preston enters the dining room, and he seems worried. “It’s Ruth.”

“Is she okay?” Cole jumps up and his eyes turn cold and hard.

“She’s alive,” Preston replies through tight lips. “I took her to her room.”

“Will you excuse me?” Cole looks at me.

“Sure,” I nod. “I’ll be in my room.”

Absentmindedly, I stare at the food as Cole follows Preston. There is a gnawing in the back of my mind, pressuring me to connect the dots. Nobody would ask me to kill a vampire if I were simply a human. They would ask somebody with the skills to do it. Does that mean I am capable of defeating a vampire? Am I capable of killing?

Cole POV

“What happened?” I grunt as Preston and I walk to Ruth’s room.

“Bar fight,” he replies. “She and that tart, Fiona, went to a club in town. I’m not sure what happened, but Ruth threw the first punch. Fortunately, we had a team in the area, and they intervened before the human authorities arrived. They grabbed her and brought her home.”

“I don’t know how much more I can take,” I admit and open the door. Ruth is lying on her bed, covered in blood and bruises.

“It’s not my blood,” Ruth says before I can utter a word.

“Tell that to your nose,” I grunt and cross my arms in front of my chest. I would much rather pull her over my lap and give her the hiding of her life.

“Bastard sucker punched me,” she groans when she touches her nose. “But I broke his jaw, so we’re even.”

“For f*ck’s sake, Ruth,” I explode. “When is this going to stop? You could’ve ended up in jail or worse, dead on a sidewalk.”

“You’re overreacting,” she stands up and walks to her bathroom. “You’re just concerned about the family’s reputation.”

“That ship has sailed with your Oxy overdose,” I snap. “This family had enough funerals, Ruth. I have no desire to plan yours.”

“Whatever,” she walks back into the room, and takes off her bloody and torn blouse. “I’m going to see Father.”

“No, you’re not,” I hiss. “Not looking like that. It’ll break his heart.”

“You know as well as I, that he will ask questions if I don’t go,” she argues while she pulls a shirt over her head.

“I’ll make up an excuse, but you’re not going,” I say firmly.

“Try and stop me,” she sneers and walks past me.

But I had enough. Ruth has been pushing me for years and I cannot stand it any longer. I have tried everything. I pleaded, I begged, I talked and explained. I arranged therapy. Nothing worked.

“I said no,” my voice is dangerously low when I grab her upper arm.

“Let me go,” she struggles against my hold. “You’re hurting me.”

“I had enough!” I bellow and throw her onto her bed.

“You hear me?” I shout and she looks at me with big, fear-filled eyes. “Enough! You’re confined to your room. You will have your meals here. Visitors will be screened by me before entering your room. And there will be guards posted at your door twenty-four seven.”

“You cannot do that,” she whimpers.

“I can and I have,” I roar. “And if you push me, I will lock you up in the dungeon like a criminal. Do you understand?”

“F*ck you!” She screams, grabs the lamp from her side table and throws it at my face.

I sidestep it easily and the lamp shatters against the wall.

“I hate you!” She buries her face in a pillow and starts crying.

“And I love you,” I sigh as I turn around and lock her door.