The Alpha and Her Criminal

t h r e e

I move with calculating strikes, stepping out of the way, only to jump right back in as my opponent retracts. My attacks are nimble and fast, targeting weak points quickly and effectively. It’s a turret of jabs and uppercuts that not even a trained eye could see.

He’s overwhelmed, retreating back and I increase my attacks, punching harder and moving faster. My adrenaline was pumping through my veins, the excitement of the win so close. Fighting is what I do best and showing dominance has always been a guilty pleasure of mine.

Unfortunately for me, my father has about thirty years of war experience over me and I’m on the cold ground before I can blink. For a moment, my breath is knocked out of my lungs and my vision is obstructed by the stars that burst out.

I even out my breathing, staring up at the great Alpha of the Russian pack.

His amusement makes me want to throw up. “You got carried away.”

“No.” Losing gracefully was not something I was good at. “Let’s go again.”

He observed me from the heavy breathing to the no doubt mid shift eyes that I had. “You always lose when you get ahead of yourself.”

“It won’t happen again.” I took my fighting form once more, teeth grinding. “One more time.”

Just as we were about to begin our bare fist fighting, my mother stepped between us with a frown on her face. “It’s dinner time. Why are you two still beating each other up?”

My authoritative Alpha father suddenly fizzles into a puppy at the arrival of my mother. “Only practicing, my love.”

“Alexandra, you’ve beaten your father a hundred times before.” She says so blatantly without caring for my father’s offended face. “Beating him again won’t change anything.”

“Beating him again minimizes future mistakes.” I reasoned, but followed her advice either way.

“Mental strength is just as important as your physical strength and we all know how good you are at the physical part of fights.” She gently advises, eyes twinkling with a prowess that only a former Queen could have. “You’ll win more when you’re in control rather than out of control.”

As always, she had a point.

Werewolves are a very emotional race. Our wolves respond well to our emotions and go as far as encouraging outbursts, so control over oneself is best.

My grandfather, Luca and Eros have the best level of control while my father had the worst. Apparently, I took after him because, although I have complete control over my wolf, I had no control over my temper.

“Come, it’s time to eat.” My mother pressed a kiss on my cheek. “This is your final meal in the house before you move to the housing.”

I dreaded going. Mostly because Lev Morozov would be there, devilishly grinning and chatting up a storm.

“How was Morozov? I heard he had fought the guards.” My father asked, opening the door for both my mother and I.

The urge to facepalm at the memory was strong as I entered the house. “Oh, he did.”

Our home is nothing like the castle with its polished marble floors, golden chandeliers for days and timeless grandeur. The Alpha’s Mansion is cozy with its colorful mismatched furniture and excessive amount of thick fur rugs. But then it’s also luxurious in its own interesting way. The floor is stained dark, the walls covered in ivory paint and tall shimmery windows that show the snowy mountains and the wonder of winter outside. Luminous lanterns and golden embellished ornaments hang along the walls. A fiery hearth is working hard, keeping the inside of our home warm.

“Did they ever find that poor prisoner’s arm?” My mother added, the curiosity and morbid look on her face laughable. “I hope Lev Morozov didn’t eat it.”

I took my seat on the left of my father’s. “He fed it to the prisoner.”

The retired Queen let out a surprised squawk. “The same prisoner that owns the arm?”

My father bursts out laughing, slamming his hand down repeatedly on the table. The fine porcelain on the table shook and threatened to fall. “I suppose that’s one way to return it.”

Technically, Morozov did give it back. That wasn’t stealing at all. I couldn’t help but laugh along with him, slamming my own hand down the table repeatedly and at some point snorting loudly. With our combined table slamming, the plates and other cutlery rattled, only seconds away from breaking.

Mother shoots us both a look of utter disbelief and then disappointment— probably wishing Eros was here to help balance the pair of crazies. She was outnumbered without him. “I can never understand you two.”

My father and I share a grin before digging into our food.

Hours later, before I’m expected at the housing, I sit cross legged on the fluffy snow and stare out into the frozen lake.

“So close.” I whispered quietly, feeling the cold breeze in my hair and sucking in the chill to my lungs.

Time passes quickly when a life changing event is this close.

Only a month ago I was back in the castle and only a month ago I was reminded that this was my destiny. Being back there and facing monsters with beautiful painted faces and clouds of aromatic perfumes… they would lie to your face and smile as they manipulate you to your death. I don’t know how my brother and Astrea do it. I’d rather face monsters that look like monsters. And it’s not all about the monsters that lived within those walls. I hated the life there. I just couldn’t take any of it from the over the top expectations, the glamorous dresses and the tight schedules.

I wonder sometimes if I could ever be happy there, find a dependable mate and fight monsters in pretty faces until I retire and die but then I see Russia… see its beauty and its wonderful people, and I know deep in my heart that I can never be as happy there as I am here.

My love for the soft snow that I was sitting on and the breeze that was so cold my lungs felt stiff, the position of my dreams just a week away.

No.

There really wasn’t any other place for me.

“Everything alright?”

I half expected my father to come. He always comes, but it was my mother’s smiling face that greeted me. “Are you disappointed in me?”

The question stunned her and for a moment she looked as if in pain. “If you think that, then I have failed you.” She pushed my hair back the way she did all those years ago. “What has brought this up?”

A sigh leaves my lips and I regret bringing it up. “Nothing.”

“You need to let go of your guilt, Alexandra.” My mother, ever the observant, understands me instantly without any explanation needed. “Your brother and I are very proud of you. We understand that being Alpha has always been your calling.”

Sometimes, most times, I feel guilty about leaving my little brother there. I was living on borrowed time given by him. I was here, loving what I do because of him. “I was heir to the throne. I don’t think a call can be any louder than that.”

She stared into my eyes, the identical blues sparkling. “Are you not happy?”

I didn’t have to think about my answer. “I am. I just wish Eros wasn’t having a hard time because of my happiness.”

“Your brother is happy. He’s doing what Volkovs do best.” She had said the Volkov name instead of the Basco, a name she didn’t use.

“Enduring?” I guessed, because what else would the Volkovs be known for if not for their endurance to whatever is thrown at them.

My mother grins and it’s almost the same troublesome one my father and I have. “Winning.”

And he has been. All of the nobles have been replaced with new and loyal ones, Generals are cleaned out and the castle is at peace or at least getting there. He has chosen a wonderful mate who can support him and love him. The Queen of his dreams.

“It’s time we worried less about your brother and focus your attention on the tournament. Have you seen the other men you’re competing against?” She asks, even though I know the idea of this tournament still bewilders her. My mother, the famed Queen, was a peaceful sovereign. She let Eros and I, sometimes our father, handle the bloodier part of being the leader of an entire race.

I don’t look away from the lake, if I imagine hard enough, I can see mother gliding through the ice like she did before. “No. They’ve been training in secret and hiding away.“

“What do you know about them?” My mother sounded worried but I know it wasn’t for me. She’s worried about the people I was going to face… of what I would do to them.

I think of the thirty seven men that have joined the tournament, who have prepared for longer years than I. “Some are father’s men-- guards and high ranking members of the pack, some are men from outside our town, most are fighters from all over.”

“Are you nervous?” She asks quietly, staring out at the lake as well. Further up north in the coldest part of our land is a dense forest where the tournament will be held. Between tall mountains, glaciers and tundras, the dense forest is the coldest part of our land because of permafrost- a layer of permanently frozen soil. The area there is unlivable even for us werewolves and we were expected to fight there until our numbers dwindled. There, if you aren’t killed by the other contenders, the horrible temperatures sure will.

“No.” And I wasn’t. Not really. I was more anxious for it to begin because I'd been waiting a long time for this. I just wanted to fight and win.

“Good. You don’t need to be.” The confidence in her voice was soothing. “If there’s anyone that can follow your father’s footsteps, it would be you.”

Years of training and learning to survive… all of it for this one moment.

Suddenly, my mother turned to face me, her expression serious. “Make every second count in there.”

Every second counts. It’s what my father taught Eros and I. Every count, every punch, every shift, every step and every breath. All of that must count. It was strange to hear it from her. My mother had always been about peace and believed most things could be done through negotiation.

A long stretch of silence came between us and it was only interrupted by the sound of my brother’s voice entering my head. Mind link connections have always been strange to me, they whisper into your mind like a soft breeze would, their voice laced with thoughts that I couldn’t decipher properly.

‘Alexandra,’ He started, his voice a strange sound. It’s as if something was wrong and he didn’t know how to bring it up to me.

Worried, I stood up from my seat and waved goodbye to my mother, mouthing Eros' name so she knew I was talking to him. I walk deeper into the freezing cold temperature so that my conversation with Eros isn’t interrupted-- he only calls me when there's a problem. ‘Everything alright, little brother?’

He hesitates and when I try to read him, I’m met with a wall. He’s pushing me back from entering his mind.

Is he hiding something? If he is, what is it?

‘The tournament… it’s in a week.’ He says instead, making me more confused.

The little patience that I have is slipping from my fingers. ‘Yes?’

‘Are you prepared?’ His question is suspicious to me because my brother is never about small talk.

I quickly cut to the chase. ‘What are you hiding?’

The walls in his mind begin to shake as I push against them, cracking under pressure. Random thoughts filter through his mind, entering mine. Thoughts of Astrea telling him something but her words are muffled and inaudible. His raging fury at whatever she had said. He keeps screaming something about a general.

Is he calling me to reprimand a general?

I didn’t understand.

‘I thought I was ready to tell you something,’ He began, his internal battle within himself was cryptic. ‘It’s best I tell it in person when I come to watch your tournament.’

I could sense his fear… of me, of what would happen to me if I was distracted. ‘Are you in trouble? Do you need my help? I have a week before the tournament starts but I can visit and help-‘

‘No!’ He roared. ‘Do not come. Stay and focus there. You’re so close, Alexandra. You’re almost to your dream. This can wait. Trust me.’

Trust him and wait. I blew out a shaking breath. ‘Okay.’

He ends the conversation quickly as if running away from me.

What was that about?