Page 17 of The Alpha's Fallen Spell
“Just set it on the table,” Erik tells her, his voice gentle but firm.
She does as instructed, bobbing her head in a quick motion before slipping out of the room. The door closes behind her, and we’re alone again.
Erik brings the tray to the bed and sets it between us. Steam rises from bowls of something thick and golden. The smell hits me, rich and unfamiliar, and my stomach clenches painfully.
“Oatmeal,” he explains, noticing my confusion. “With honey and fruit. Jerry, the healer who took care of you, has made a chart for your meals. You may not be able to process heavy meats yet, so we’re keeping things light for a few days.”
I stare at the food, uncertain how to proceed. In the facility, I was thrown scraps on a good day, stale bread once every few days. But they would stick a needle in me—“to make sure you don’t die,” my tormentor would say.
I reach for the food with my fingers but he grabs my wrist, shaking his head. “Not everything can be eaten with your hands.” He lifts a spoon and dips it into one of the bowls. He blows on it gently before offering it to me. “It’s hot,” he warns.
I lean forward, my lips parting. The sweetness explodes on my tongue, shocking after years of bland sustenance. Something akin to a whimper escapes me.
“Good?” he asks, a small smile touching his lips.
I nod, unable to speak through the rush of sensation. He hands me the spoon, and I take it, my fingers clumsy around the unfamiliar object. I dip it into the bowl as he did, lifting it with trembling care.
“I was human,” I say after several careful bites, testing the words like I’m testing the food. The concept still feels strange, like clothing that doesn’t quite fit. “And they...changed me.”
Erik nods, his expression darkening. “The Silver Ring Organization has been experimenting with dormant shiftergenes in humans. They activated something that was already inside you.”
I look down at my hands. They are smooth now, healed by whatever magic touched me while I slept, but I can still feel the phantom sensation of claws bursting through my fingertips, of bones reshaping beneath my skin.
“Is that why it hurts?” I ask. “When I change?”
“It shouldn’t hurt,” he says carefully. “Not like that. Not anymore.”
I take another bite, letting the sweet taste ground me. “And those men in the woods—the ones you killed...”
“They were part of the organization that held you captive,” Erik confirms. “The same one that kept my brother for ten years.”
The weight of that statement settles between us. There is a shared understanding of captivity, of torture, of being treated like an object rather than a person.
“I didn’t mean to kill those other men,” I say suddenly, the words rushing out. “The ones by the fire. But they were going to hurt me. I could smell it on them. I could see it in their eyes.” I swallow hard, remembering the laughter, the cruel anticipation.
Erik’s jaw tightens. “You don’t need to explain. You were defending yourself.”
“Have you—” I hesitate, unsure how to ask. “Have you killed many people?”
The question does not faze him. “Yes. To protect others. To protect the kingdom.” His gaze holds mine steadily. “To protect you.”
Something warm unfurls in my chest at his words. It’s unfamiliar, this feeling of being worth protecting.
“How did you escape?” he asks after a moment, his tone careful, like he’s aware he might be stepping on bruises he can’t see.
I set the spoon down, suddenly not hungry anymore. The memories rise like floodwater, threatening to drown me.
“They were moving me,” I say, my voice flat even to my own ears. “They were trying to get me to change, but it wasn’t working. And that man—the one from the woods—he got angry and started hurting me. My neck—he cut something, and I felt numb, like I was becoming empty.”
“You were dying.” Erik’s expression is dark.
I stare down at the food. “I think I did die. But something inside me was stirring, and it felt strange. When I woke up, my restraints were not there, and I was being dragged by my arm. I knew I had to escape.” I close my eyes, remembering the way my body felt different, the way it was changing. “That was my first time shifting. I killed them. I killed everyone I could see. They tried to stop me, and they cut me very badly, but I got away.”
Erik says nothing, just listens with an intensity that makes me feel heard in a way I never have been before.
“I ran. I don’t know how long. I stopped at one point near a stream to drink. I was back to human. Someone spotted me, and I started running again. And then, I came across those men.” I can feel my heart racing now, the memory too close, too real. My hands begin to shake.
“It’s okay,” Erik says, his voice hard. “You’re not there anymore.”
