The Exiled Alpha | ✓

19 | Sisterly Love

The days go by in the blink of an eye, and soon a week has passed. We repaired the house to the best of our abilities, although the holes are still in the walls and the claw marks in the floors.

We still sleep in separate rooms, although there's an unspoken discomfort there. Riot's wolf has calmed down substantially, making the nights more peaceful. The days have been spent fixing the house. Now it finally looks lived in and not abandoned, nor the target of a tornado.

I've grown used to random, inconsistent acts of affection from Riot. We still aren't close physically, but he's stopped fighting it as much. On any occasion it's become normal for him to touch me in the smallest of ways. Like appearing out of the blue just to put his hand on my arm, or hovering near me while I do whatever task is at hand.

If Alpha Andre or his son are angry at my disappearance, they haven't made it known. Which has only puts me more on edge. With every noise I hear outside I expect to see the door I just put back up to come crashing down again. But it hasn't yet.

My dreams have become hell and it's always the same one. Where I'm back on Visari territory with faceless people staring at me silently. Every time it occurs, I resort to the cigarettes to calm me down. I don't tell Riot; about the dreams or the smoking. If he's ever smelled the smoke— which I've gone to great lengths to hide— he hasn't mentioned it.

I've spent so much time in the cabin that I start hating the view of it. Back home I took to the trails as much as possible just to get away. I know that's exactly what I need right now.

I step out onto the front porch and strip down. The early morning air is crisp and chilled, just the right temperature to be invigorating. I leave my clothes hanging on the inside of the door for Riot to see in case he wakes up while I'm gone.

Considering that I just got done running damage control from last time, I'm not looking for a relapse.

I step off the porch and shift, having missed the feel of being on four legs. I trot through the quiet forest, dawn just now breaking over the horizon. Cool shades of purple and blue paint the sunrise, the light not yet reaching through the trees.

The sky, like everything else here, is beautiful. When midday sets it turns to a clear, extravagant blue. Although it's no different than the one above Visari, it feels different. Untouched.

I remember a couple of days ago when I asked Riot how this land got by without being claimed by a pack. How an entire mountain had slipped by unattained by anyone.

He told me about a legend that it kept long ago, one that drove everyone away from it. Something about a bleeding sky and monsters coming out at more than just night. He kept it vague and I didn't bother to press any further.

Not a single bird chirps, being too early even for them. The silence is noticeable, making the crunching of leaves under my paws all the louder. Which is why, when I stop walking, the scratching of tree bark sticks out like a sore thumb.

Right as my ears perk up, a weight drops on my back. Once the air is knocked from my lungs an arm slips around my neck, not giving me the chance to get it back.

Irritation shoots through me in an instant and a fighting instinct takes over. I'm kicking, jumping, and shaking frantically, trying anything at all to throw whatever asshole is on me off. My attacker's legs slide down to squeeze my sides, hanging on tighter with a readjusted grip. The whole time, snarls are tearing from my throat as fast as my heart is pounding.

"Stop struggling, dammit!" A stentorian female voice barks hatefully in my ear.

I'm the one irritating her?