Alpha Ragnar

Chapter 13

There was blood. It squirted in all directions as the skin was ripped from Melanie's neck.

I barely register the surprise on her frozen face before I'm blinded by a white light.

"Gah!"

I shrink down and cover my eyes to avoid what may as well be the sun shining through the

newly open wound in my imposter second chance mate.

I try to open my eyes, only to see the blinding white light yet again, so I shut my eyelids and

don't dare open them until I hear a wet thud.

I pry one eye open to check if it safe, and when I see the light is gone, I stand back up and look at

what caused the noise.

Melanie's body had dropped to the ground and her neck at a strange angle, had splattered into a

small puddle of blood.

It was nearly disconnected from her body, but some skin still remained on the back half of her

neck, keeping the body and head just barely joined.

I look in disgust and confusion. There goes my chance to get answers from the witch, but one big

question still bugs me. The light. What was it? It was such a bright flash that I couldn't even open

my eyes. It seemed like it was occuring for a long time, but I know it was only two or three

seconds since that's about how long Melanie took to fall down after I ripped her throat out.

I almost feel bad, but the curious situation clouds any emotion I might have had.

I can't even bring myself to be dissapointed when I realize I have no leads. I can't go to the witch,

Melanie can't promise the favor, and I have no clue where my mate's spirit is. The after world?

This world? With the moon goddess?

I don't even know where to turn.

I give the dead body one last look before sulkenly walking out of the dungeon and right past my

prodding beta.

"Dispose of the body," is all I say as I pass by.

It's only mid-afternoon, but I'm too emotionally drained to bring myself to do any work. I don't

even want to talk. Heading to the pack house and ignoring everyone along the way, I decide to

stay in my room the rest of the day.

..................................

Even though I don't like anyone coming onto this floor, if I want room service, they have to

come into my space.

As always, the Intrusion was well worth it. For dinner, I'd had comfort food. The pack house

chef prepared Stormie's waffles to a T, the only difference is these were not made with the

special ingredient. I smile at the memory of how Stormie would always serve the plate to me.

"One large stack of chocolate, strawberry, and lemon waffles topped with Nutella drizzle,

powdered sugar, strawberries, blue berries, and of course my special ingredient of love!"

She would even straddle my lap and feed me each bite, giving me sweet kisses in between.

I miss that. I want that back. There's no doubt in my mind that my mate meant her promise, but

maybe she's just not coming back. It's impossible. With a sigh, I decide to watch something to

take my mind off the topic. I know thinking like that would disappoint her, so I choose to watch

something will consume all my thoughts.

Supernatural.

Stormie and I only made it to the sixth season, so I scroll through the episodes and pick a random

one. The volume is loud enough to resemble a movie theatre and I lean back relaxing.

I make it about three quarters of the way through the episode when I cringe at the person rising

from their grave. They are dirty and quite frightening looking. Thank God people don't actu-

Creak...

I turn my head towards the door and squint in the dark. Even with my werewolf vision, it still

difficult to see, so I tune into my excelled hearing. There are footsteps on my floor and I assume

the creaking was from the stairs.

Who would dare come up unannounced? R. Jonah. Either of the two, really.

I shake my head in frustration and walk to the door to meet my visitor.

Creak...

Perhaps it's because I was watching a show that makes me paranoid, but my slow opening of the

bedroom door only makes the rusted hinges sound creepier.

I'm about to argue to either my beta or gamma for trespassing, but I nearly choke in fright at the

sight before me. The dead body. The one from the tv, it's al-

The figure raises it's head and this time I actually do choke.

Coughing violently while holding back tears, I scan the figure.

The once white sundress is now all brown with yellow streaks. The originally porcelain skin is

even darker due to the dirt that has embedded itself there to the point where the person looks

almost like some kind of shadow creature. Even the long dark hair is matted and tangled, but

there's no mistaking those eyes.

Those familiar dark blue doe eyes. They plead and look so tired with just one glance.

Stormie.