My Alpha's Secret

Chapter Six

The driveway to the packhouse was covered with trees on either side of the road. It made the clearing for the pack house seem like we were emerging from darkness into a whole other world. Everything here was so green and earthy. From the oak trees to the evergreens, pine and cedar, there was green as far as the eye could see. Each shade of green just as beautiful as the last.

*Woah...* Pearl exhales. Eyes wide from the sight before us. It looked like something straight from a childs storybook. A real life fairytale.

*'Woah' is right.* I agree still in shock.

Once entering the clearing we still had a short drive to fully reach the packhouse. It was absolutely gorgeous. You could feel the p*****t turn to gravel underneath the tires of Ambers car. The gravel driveway was lined with three foot tall gardenia brushes all the way up the driveway. And then only stopped when the driveway turned into a circle around a huge, beautiful water feature fountain.

We pulled over and parked the car before we could enter the circle. This apparently where every other pack member saw fit to park as well. There were at least fifty other cars parrked in the area. The whole entire pack must be here. At least the majority of them are. Who could blame them? Master Alpha's son Dom had returned from five years of training with an allied pack. And the celebration is supposed to be like no other.

*Great.* I think to myself. *I'm ready to go.*

*Umm, no ma'am.* Pearl argues. *We deserve to cut loose and have a good time.*

I know she's right. We haven't went out and had a good time in what seems like forever. Seeing as how crowds make me nervous, I usually don't go out much. Normally on Friday night I curl up on the couch with Mason and watch cartoons order some take out and just hang out at home. I can honestly say I enjoy spending my freetime that way.

*Yes,* Pearl starts. *But sometimes it's good to try things differently. Let's just try to have some fun.*

*Okay, Pearl.* I say.

*Promise me.* She demands. *Or we will not shift for three months.*

*That's torture.* I say, a little annoyed with her demand. *And you know as that as well as I do.*

Not shifting for even a month is torture, let alone three. Not shifting is little taking a fat kid to a candy store and not allowing them to touch anything. It's painful. Especially shifting after so long with out doing it. As a werewolf you have to learn to deal with the pain of shifting, eventually you get used to it. And once you get used to it, it's easy to continue to do it. But if your wolf should ever deny you of the ability to shift, you'll wish you were dead.

Every single bone in your body breaks to rip the skin off of your human form to grow a pelt from underneath. And the first time you shift you'll never forget the sound of agony the escapes your chest as your elbows, knees, ankles and wrists brake and pop out of place just to bend back to accomodate your new legs. Your nails grow into claws and hands and feet turn into paws.

It's very painful.

*You wouldn't.* I tell her.

*You want to find out?* She asks. *Promise me?*

Not really. I know she would, she's done it before.

*I promise.* I tell her. *But I'm not happy about this.*

*You'll get over it.* She tells me matter-of-factly.

"Let's go." Ambers says. "We don't want to walk in late."

I nod my head and proceed to exit the vehicle. Walking up the gravel driveway to the fountain, I can see hadows moving in the water. The closer I get I can see that the shadows and actually gold and black spotted fish. I believe they are koi fish but I'm not quite sure, I thought koi fish were supposed to get bigger than the size of your hand. But they are pretty not the less.

I could now see the hard work that had went into play on the details of the fountain. What looked to be greek gods, and warriors on horsedrawn chariots, line the pool of the fountain. The hand craved alabaster, had so much detail that you would've thought Michelangelo himself carved it. Magnificent. The fountain is dead center of the mansion that is the packhouse.

There is a concret walkway that leads straight to the front door of the packhouse. The walkway is lined with five alabaster pillars that match the craftmanship of the fountain. Someone had taken the time to hang up white see-through sashes connecting each one. They almost reminded me of a wedding isle. All that was missing was a elegantly clothed bride, in white from head to toe.

Walking up the steps, I stop feet away from two very big, very heavy looking, wooden door. My anxiety coming back in the sudden realization, I have never been inside the pack house before.