Page 18 of The Alpha's Fallen Spell
I look up at him, at the certainty in his eyes. “But I am,” I whisper. “Every time I close my eyes, I’m back in that room with the white walls and the metal table. I’m back with the needles and the tests and the—” My voice breaks. “I wanted to die. I wanted to be free or die. I don’t want to be cut up anymore. I don’t want to be beaten and hurt all the time.”
Erik moves the tray aside and comes closer to me, his movements slow and deliberate. “May I?” he asks, arms slightly open.
I don’t understand the question at first, and then, I do. No one has ever asked permission to touch me before. They just took, cut, prodded, restrained.
I nod, a small motion.
He reaches for me, drawing me against his chest. His arms encircle me, firm but not confining. I’m stiff at first, unfamiliar with this kind of contact, but all of a sudden, my resistance gives way. I melt into his warmth, my face pressed against his shoulder, breathing in the scent that makes my wolf feel calm for the first time ever.
“You survived,” he says, his voice a rumble I feel against my cheek. “That’s what matters. You survived, and you found your way here.”
I don’t tell him that I didn’t find my way anywhere—that I was simply running blind, that meeting him was chance, not destiny. But even as the thought forms, something deeper whispers otherwise. The wolf in me recognizes him, is drawn to him in ways I don’t understand.
“What happens now?” I ask, my voice muffled against his shirt.
His hand moves to my hair, stroking gently. “Now, you heal. You rest. You learn what it means to be free.” He pulls back slightly, looking into my eyes. “And I’ll be here. For as long as you need me.”
I believe him. After everything I’ve been though, I don’t know why I can still trust someone’s words, but I do. Perhaps it’s the wolf in me, sensing something in him that my human mind can’t fully grasp. Or perhaps it’s simply that he’s the first person who has ever looked at me and seen someone worth saving.
Either way, for the first time that I can remember, I feel something other than fear.
I feel hope.
After breakfast, Erik leads me down a long corridor, his hand occasionally brushing against mine as if to reassure me that he’s still there. We stop before a large, wooden door carved with intricate patterns I don’t recognize.
“This is one of our meeting rooms,” he explains. “Maya thought it might be more comfortable to talk here than in your bedroom.”
Maya. The queen. A human-turned-shifter, like me.
I nod, though anxiety crawls up my spine.
Erik seems to sense my hesitation. “I’ll be with you the whole time,” he promises before pushing open the door.
The room inside is nothing like I expected. Warm light streams through tall windows, illuminating comfortable chairs arranged around a polished table. A woman with auburn hair stands as we enter, her movements graceful and assured. She carries a small case in her hands, and her eyes are kind but analytical as they scan me.
“Hello, Fiona,” she says, her voice gentle. “I’m Maya. I’m Erik’s sister-in-law. How are you feeling?”
Hearing her link to Erik helps me relax a bit. “Okay.” I try to shrug.
“Good.”
Her smile is…not sweet but sharp, and her eyes glitter with intelligence. She reminds me of the scientists in the labs but not entirely. She seems warm and approachable. I glance toward Erik as she speaks.
“I’d like to talk with you and run some simple tests, if that’s okay.”
Tests. The word makes my stomach clench. Erik puts his hands on my shoulders, his presence solid and reassuring.
“She won’t hurt you,” he says, as if reading my thoughts. “Maya was human once, too. Like you, remember?”
He told me about her before we came to this room. I look at her more closely, searching for some sign of difference, some hint that she wasn’t born a shifter. But she seems so comfortable in her skin, so balanced. Nothing like the chaos I feel inside me.
“He stays,” I say, the words coming out sharper than I intended. “Please.”
Maya nods, setting her case on the table. “Of course. Whatever makes you comfortable.”
Erik guides me to a chair and takes the one beside me, close enough that I can feel his warmth but not so close that I feel trapped. I draw strength from his presence.
“I need to take a small blood sample,” Maya explains, opening her case. “And I’d like to ask you some questions about what happened to you. Is that alright?”
