Born A Female Alpha

Chapter 4

*

Clark crossed the threshold of the house with his blood boiling. He’d dumped Sierra at the bottom of the stairs, barely glancing at her as he said, “My study. Now.”

Sierra was trembling all over, petrified by the rage she saw in his eyes. Why did she have to be so stupid? She shouldn’t have left the house when he’d told her specifically to never leave without his permission.

No doubt her mother had told him about her running off.

She followed after him with her head bowed, refusing to even look up and watch his broad back as he glided through the silent hallways. The house sounded dead; it always had. Her childhood was nothing more than a tale of the dead walls and deafening silence at every turn.

Of course she’d gotten used to it now. At a point, the silence stoped bothering her. She thought of it instead as a companion, a friend to hold her hand and guide her through the strangeness of her life. But once she’d feared it, and now she feared the silence from her father.

Clark led her to the study, throwing the door open and heading straight for the mantel and pouring himself a cognac.

“Sit,” he said, pointing towards the chair. Sierra tiptoed towards the chair and sank into it. Clark turned his back to her, staring out the window with his hand in his pocket.

“Did it not occur to you at any point when you were planning your little ruse that I may find out about it?” he asked, tempering his rage with a calm tone.

Sierra stared down at her feet, unsure of what to say.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally, deciding that was her safest bet. Anything to keep him from flying off the handle.

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it this time,” he said. “You deliberately disobeyed me. Do you not understand that everything I do is to protect you?”

“I just wanted to see it,” she said. “Mother told me so many stories of how you both used to love going there, and I just wanted to see it for myself.”

Clark pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing exasperatedly.

“Sierra, no matter what stories you hear, no matter what anyone says to you, you cannot disobey me,” he said. “I’m your father. More than that, I’m your Alpha. Disobedience is a treasonous act and you know it.”

“I’m sorry,” she said once again “I just don’t understand what exactly you’re keeping me safe from.”

She shouldn’t have said that. From the way his shoulders tensed, Sierra knew she shouldn’t have spoken to him that way.

Clark turned slowly, his grip on the glass so tight that it began to crack.

“You want to know?” he asked. “You want to know what I’m keeping you safe from?”

Sierra shook her head quickly, averting her gaze.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he said, his voice commanding obedience. Slowly, Sierra dragged her gaze up to him.

“You think the world is as safe as this house?” he asked calmly, although his canines were beginning to protrude. “You think it’s a world of three square meals and comfortable beds all day? You think there aren’t people out there who would murder you out of cold blood just because of who you are? I’ve seen these things, Sierra. And I’ll be damned if I let my offspring be wasted like that, pathetic as she is.”

Hot tears brimmed her eyes instantly, but she bit her lips and swallowed her sobs, refusing to let him see her cry.

“You think I don’t hear the whispers everyday?” he continued. “You think these idiots wouldn’t seize the first opportunity to throw you out of the pack if I wasn’t here? Everything you are, everything you’ll ever be, is because of me. You’re alive today because I wished it. You’re sitting here today because I put my neck on the line several times for your sake. Some bloody gratitude will be appreciated, instead of you gambling your life away for a sightseeing adventure.”

He turned away from her, as though the very sight of her irritated him.

“You will not be going to the festival,” he said slowly. “That is your punishment for disobeying me.”

“Father!” Sierra shot out of her seat, the tears already falling down her cheeks. “You can’t do that. It’s my first time. You cannot take that away from me.”

“I can do whatever the hell I want,” he said. “And to think Eva actually thought you were ready.”

“Father, please don’t do this,” she begged, falling to her knees. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do. But please don’t stop me from going. Please. I’ve been waiting for this for so long. Please don’t take this away from me.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you disobeyed me,” he said, still refusing to look at her. “We’re done here.”

Sierra fled from the study, sobbing all the way up to her bedroom. How could he do this to her? Her own father, and yet he treated her like she was some vermin he couldn’t wait to get rid of. Did he not know what was at stake if she didn’t go?

Sierra collapsed onto her bed with a groan, curling up into a ball before she dragged the duvet over her. He couldn’t do this to her. Not now, when her entire future depended on her attending.

Eva found her in that state, with her eyes a piercing shade of red after nearly an hour of crying.

“What did he do this time?” she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing her hand on Sierra’s shoulder. The latter flinched from her touch, not wanting to talk to her. It was her -Eva- after all who must have told him that she’d left the house. And now because of her, she’d been robbed of the one thing she had been looking forward to for so long.

“Are you giving me the silent treatment now?” Eva asked when it became apparent that Sierra did not wish to speak with her.

“You deserve the silent treatment,” Sierra fired back. For a moment, Eva’s eyes flashed red. But then she sighed and shook her head.

“I’ll forgive you because you’re in a terrible state,” she said. “But this should be the last time you speak to me that way, young lady.”

“How could you tell him?” She sat up on the bed, ignoring the fact that she looked like a horrible mess. “How could you send him after me knowing what he would do?”

“Sierra,” Eva sighed, “everything your father and I do is to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?” she asked, her voice rising an octave. “All you’ve ever told me since I was a child was that you’re trying to protect me, but from what? I don’t want your protection if you’ll wave it in my face like a gift. I never asked for it in the first place.”

“Let me guess, he said you can’t go to the festival?” Eva raised an eyebrow. Sierra frowned and looked away, her silence answering the question.

“Don’t worry about it,” Eva said. “I’ll speak with him. He can be reasoned with once his temper passes. As for why we protect you, it is because we love you. Your father has a lot of enemies, Sierra. And the best way to hurt your enemy is to hurt someone they love. Your father knows you will be a prime target if someone is trying to hurt him, which is why he keeps you safe. It’s why we keep you safe.”

“Father doesn’t love me,” Sierra scoffed.

“And who told you that?” Eva asked. “Love is hard, Sierra. That’s why he’s so hard on you. He wants so much for you to be perfect, that he beats himself up every time you do someone which tells him otherwise. All he wants is the absolute best for you. Surely you should know that by now.”

She sighed as her mother placed her hand on her shoulder, pulling her into a hug. Sierra sighed against her, the numbness in her chest subsiding briefly. Not that she believed anything she’d said, but it was nice to know that she was here for her. At least she had the decency to hold her and tell her that everything will be alright. Clark would rather swallow a red hot piece of metal than hug his own daughter.

Sometimes, Sierra thought she was adopted. Perhaps he had found her somewhere in the woods, a little baby with no one to look after her and he’d pitied her. Why he brought her back to the house, she would never know. But the explanation made sense to her. It was the only thing which made sense. She was probably some human baby abandoned in the woods because her parents didn’t want her. Clark was probably being noble when he took her into his care. It would explain everything, since she lacked the most basic instincts of a wolf. She wasn’t fast, or very strong, or particularly gifted with a decent sense of smell. Where her peers would thrive in mundane activities such as climbing a tree, Sierra would fail miserably.

And yet she was supposed to succeed her father one day?

Pathetic.

Afterwards, when Eva left to speak with her father in private, Sierra hopped out of bed and made her way to the vents. She had been seven years old when she first discovered the secret maze, winding into every room in the house. It was her own precious secret, one she was glad to have so she could sneak around the house undetected. It was one of the many reasons she was glad her father couldn’t read her mind, otherwise he would have ordered the vents to be sealed if he knew the number of meetings she’d spied upon without his knowledge.

The study was the most familiar path to her. Once she crawled into the vents, it was a straight crawl and then a left, past her mother’s bedroom and straight to the guest room before she would turn right and then quickly left. The study was the first opening beneath her.

Sure enough, her mother was in there when she crawled to the opening and peered down. Clark was sitting on the windowsill, brooding while he stared at the darkness outside.

“You’re too hard in her,” Eva said, sitting on his chair and watching him calmly.

“I’m as hard as I need to be with her,” he said. “None of this would happen if she would simply listen to me.”

“And do you listen to her?” she asked, raising a promiscuous eyebrow.

“I don’t owe her my allegiance,” Clark said stubbornly. “She is meant to listen to me and not the other way around.”

“Perhaps if you simply listened to her once in a while, then you two would get along easier. You have much more in common than both of you even realize.”

Like that would ever happen.

“You came here to ask if she can go to the festival, didn’t you?” he asked. “But I’ve made my decision clear already. If you managed to convince me earlier, then the offer is off the table now.”

Eva slid out of the chair, walking slowly towards him.

“And there’s nothing I can do to convince you?” she asked, her voice sultry and wicked.

“Absolutely nothing,” he said, although Sierra noticed the hungry look in his eyes when he turned to look at his wife.

“Are you sure about that?” Eva asked, finally reaching him and wrapping an arm promiscuously around his shoulders.

That was her cue to leave. Quickly, before either of them would notice, Sierra maneuvered her way back to her room, after a quick detour to the kitchen to see what was for dinner.

Pasta and steak; Clark’s favorite.

When she returned to her bedroom, it was to find Brandon there, sitting by the windowsill in much the same manner as her father had been just now.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“To visit a friend,” he replied, raking his long fingers through his copper hair. He looked so much like his father, except his jawline was sharper and his eyes were golden in the sunlight. Brandon stood nearly a foot taller than her, and had always done so ever since they were children.

“Was he mad at you?” he asked.

“You have no idea,” she replied, sitting on her bed. “He said I can’t go to the festival.”

“Bummer,” he sighed. “And I was looking forward to seeing you there. Chocolate?”

“I don’t want your treacherous chocolate,” she said, glancing at the bar briefly and looking away. Edward must have taught him that trick to gain her approval.

Brandon shook his head as he walked over and sat on the bed beside her. “You know you really shouldn’t be upset all the time,” he said. “It’s bad for your skin.”

“Who cares about my skin?” Sierra threw her hands up in frustration. “Who cares about anything anyway? Did you not hear me? He said I can’t go.”

“And why is it so important that you must go?” he asked.

“Because...”

Brandon raised a careful eyebrow, watching her closely.

“Because it might be my only chance to find a mate.”

*