The Rejected Omega’s Destiny

10. Wake up call

* ALARICK’S POV*

The smoke of my cigarette rises in a lazy cloud as I exhale slowly, my head leaned backwards as I stare at the sky. It was getting harder to think as a storm had started within my head and chest. A storm that ravaged almost every bit of composure and sanity I thought I had.

Miranda left after telling me there was food left for me in the kitchen and the little one insisted on wishing me goodnight. And now the whole pack house was drowned in silence. Even my siblings, who were usually too loud for my liking, had fallen asleep by now.

I put out the cigarette and brush my hand over my face with a silent groan leaving my throat. It was a fascinating mystery how Morrighan managed to pull herself free from my grasp with so much apparent ease. I was certain it was a dead grip, and yet, she freed herself without much force. It was also fascinating how, even if clearly distressed, she did not cower, whine, wince, yelp or scurry away the way she used to.

These past years changed me. These past years changed my life completely, and I was left to wonder what happened to her. What got her to toughen up to the point where she could easily pull free from my grasp.

Even her scent had changed and, despite the nausea it swelled in my stomach, I found myself thinking of it.

I lose track of time as I sit on the window sill of my room and watch over the sleeping pack. At one point, I can spot my father rush out of the forest, striding with confidence towards the pack house. I don’t think much of it and eventually I crawl in bed.

But as I close my eyes, the unsettling opal like eyes of Morrighan spring vividly into my memory. My heart skips a beat and I drape an arm over my eyes, to shield myself from indecent thoughts as Fenris stirs with a very well known heat bothering the both of us.

She’s there. Out of reach, but right in front of me. I knew that if I reached my arm towards her, I could touch her. Her back is turned to me, her hair unruly, with dried leaves and bits of twigs trapped within the strands. Her clothes were dirty, stained with mud and dirt and green moss patches and as I tilted my head to the side, to see her face, I notice blood on the side of her face.

‘Morrighan?’ I call out, but to my surprise, no sound leaves my lips.

I take a step closer towards her, but my feet carry me nowhere. On the contrary, it feels as if there was even more distance between us. My steps grow hurried, but no matter how much I rush to get to her, she is just out of reach. And by the time I start running, a gaping pit splits the ground between us, and we are left on opposite sides of the rupture.

Something within me grew desperate to try to reach her. Her figure seems more distant with each moment that passes and the smell of fear and death reaches my nose, urging me to do something before it was not too late. Like a wild trapped beast, I find myself pacing the edge of the cliff, running both my hands into my hair when I see another shadowy figure approaching her.

The figure was taller. Frail looking, but I could tell Morrighan was afraid and, despite that, she couldn’t move.

I shouted her name again, trying to get her attention, but no sound came out of my mouth.

I step closer to the gap separating us, and as I do, she finally notices me. Her head turns, and her eyes are consumed by darkness. The ground underneath my feet crumbles and as I find myself falling, gawking up to Morrighan, her face vanishes and is disturbingly replaced by none other but my father, whose lips curl into a sinister smile, his lips stained with blood.

He mouths something I don’t quite get and as I fall, my heart hammers loudly in my chest and the air is forced right out of my lungs as I hit the ground-

My eyes snap open, and I stumble out of my bed, tangling myself into the blanket, which makes me trip and fall forward, face first.

I am fighting for air, as I try to grasp my reality.

A dream… it was just a damn dream…

I swallow harshly, the tension in my jaw still painfully pulsing and making my head feel much heavier than it was. I am a pool of sweat and the wind that sneaks through the open windows makes me feel aware of my body, or my uncomfortable position and conflicting emotions.

I get up, shower and pull on decent clothes before I make my way to the window to close it. As I do, a slim shadow figure between the first line of trees tugs at my attention.

‘It’s her…’ Fenris mutters and my stomach swells with nausea, and before I can get a grasp of myself, I am running down the stairs and out of the house.

“Are you really going to leave just like that? Again?!” I bark as the distance between us closes enough for her to hear me.

Morrighan stops abruptly, her whole body tensing. I stop as well, a few feet away from her, uncertain of when and how I made it out here so fast. I was struggling to breathe, and I wasn’t quite sure if it was because I was borderline pissed and angry or because I tried to hold back any other things I wanted to tell her.

Silence builds a wall between us, as Morrighan shifts lightly and takes a step forward, visibly ready to dash away any moment now. Her head tilts to the side, and she looks at me through the corner of her eyes, which gives me a peek at her tears streaked cheek. There was no blood on her face and I could feel Fenris feel a little more at ease. But something was wrong. I felt it all the way to the marrow of my bones.

“Don’t you dare-“ I growl, my brows coming together into a deep frown as I hurry to close the distance between us.

Morrighan flinches instantly as she realises I have neared her, and she turns to face me in a rush, planting her feet into the ground, to steady herself, taking a defensive stance, lightly crouched forward, watching me from under her furrowed brows.

She reminded me of a cornered stray dog. She was dirty, with dirt clinging to her clothes, leaves and sticks tangled into her hair, her cheeks dirty, her hands covered with dirt, and blood (?). But the most disturbing thing about her, was the wide, purple and maroon bruise that collared her neck.

It was definitely the work of a hand. A hand that encircled her neck almost entirely. What monster was this big that its hand went around her neck so easily? Subtly, I look at my own hand and, without my will, I imagine it around her neck. It almost matched the bruise and I grow sick thinking that someone my size assaulted someone so small, so frail…

She looks as if she was about to completely crumble and make herself one with the forest floor. But there was strength and determination in her eyes I could not ignore. Her nails, chipped and damaged, were stained by dried blood, but they were ready to draw even more if needed. She was ready to fight me and I find myself slightly amused by this.

Closer now, I know I can reach my hand out and touch her, but I don’t dare to.

“Are you following in your parents' footsteps?” I ask, my voice low, pinning her with my gaze.