ALPHA: Heir Of The Four

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Notes: Ava-Rain's POV

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- 'We could burn & crash, we could take a chance, holding nothing back like it's our last dance. . .' -

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     If asked about my views on mornings, ten out of ten times I would have answered that they were the bane of my existence. To be bid a 'good morning' literally made me question the meaning of life, because if I lived in a world with people that actually believed mornings were 'good', then I had no qualms about migrating down the spectrum where all things deemed 'bad' resided.

But, much to my own disbelief, I had always found something peaceful about being outdoors at dawn, particularly when I was at the Helland cottage. And I was pretty positive that it had everything to do with the fact that their Lake Rosseau property was literally surrounded by nature. The one place I always felt most at home.

There wasn't a cottage around for miles, which provided mornings free of loud, nosy, peeping Tom neighbours—the kind typically found back in the city. Instead—and if you didn't mind their company—your mornings were shared with the early rising birds as they fluttered from tree to tree. That far north, the air was much cleaner and lighter, and mixed in with the surrounding silence made dawn a relaxed and calm time of day.

Behind the estate, a stoned pathway travelled across a field of grass until it split into two opposite directions. Making a right led to the docks and a backyard of water. From inside of the cottage, the lake, for the most part, was screened by evergreen trees, but the scarce visibility wasn't enough to hide its beauty. Not even when the sun rose over the horizon, and the warm hues it spread across the sky reflected off the surface of the water. But if the left path was taken, it led towards towards a more forested area of the estate, where more than just trees, dirt, and yet to be discovered insects and creatures awaited you.

I had taken that left more times than I could count, and that morning bore no exception.

The Hellands spared no expense on their land nor their children. When I was younger, I never thought it odd that deep within the trees—about a half a mile's walk down the stone path—a reasonably sized clearing of land housed an archery range. By the time she turned five, Kasey had already been taking archery lessons from her grandparents, and when Lukas became old enough he followed in his sister's footsteps. Back then, it had just made sense. Now, with their family secret revealed, it made a lot more sense.

Going out there as early as I had was, in part, motivated by the solitude and silence that dawn provided, but it wasn't the only reason. For me, dawn was the most peaceful time of the day, and inside of that clearing was where I felt the most free.

If you had ever been alone in the woods, bow up, arrow drawn, eyes locked in on your mark, and filled to your core with the power that came with knowing that you and you alone held your target's life or death in your hands—almost as if you were a divine entity to be feared—then maybe you would understand. The weight of your draw, finding that perfect place on your cheek to anchor your three under, and the discipline of keeping silent and focused before making your move, it all contributed to the gratification that came with knowing that your every action would dictate the outcome.

For me, archery was more than just a pastime. It was the gateway to the release of the darkness pent up inside of myself. Though I had never actually shot at or killed an animal—my version of hunting consisted of shooting at targets made out of foam, not flesh and bone—I had ended lives in other ways. And the liberation I felt with every release of an arrow was undeniable.