My Alpha

A Red Canvas

Wolves are nothing if not creatures of habit. I found myself in a very strict routine in the month that has passed with me living with the enemy. My days would start with a meal and end with a meal. Everything in between seemed to blur together; clean, train, clean, train. It became a pattern that I grew to become attached to. I fell into it with ease.  I've never been super found of being tidy. My room at Noah's pack house was usually covered in discarded clothing and old food wrappers. I'm not proud to admit it, but I am a messy wolf. There was always so much to do, especially before Ellie, that I just couldn't find the time to truly care for my personal surroundings. Before Noah found his mate I was the one filling in the position of Luna. I looked after pups, helped females with their troubles, and sorted through pack work by his side, all while training many hour of the day. By the time I finally made it back to home base I was too exhausted to stay neat.

When I was younger I looked at chores in a different manner than most pups. Growing up with a grieving, violent father, it was up to me to keep our house in tact. It wasn't something that came naturally to me, not at first anyways. It only took a few bouts of my fathers rage to teach me what needed to be done to avoid his furry. Cleaning a house wasn't a nuisance like it is to most children, it felt as though it were life or death. The chaos of dirtiness was comforting to me in my older years. It allowed me to breathe knowing that no one would harm me over a mess. I suppose I became a little to comfortable back in those days. It's only been a few months, but it feels like a life time ago.

I'm not entirely sure how much time has passed since my arrival in this place, but the seasons have changed before my eyes. It was fall when I stepped into his territory. I can remember the yellow and orange leaves falling from the trees as I ran towards death. Those trees are barren now. The cold fall winds have been replace by those of winter, and it's snow litters the earth covering it in vast blankets of white. I haven't been outside in a month. I've been counting the days.

My mate and I have barely spoken in a month. He keeps himself sparse around the house, rising early in the morning and coming home late at night. It only took a day for me to realize I'd need to start my mornings early. The alpha came barreling into my room fuming over his lack of food on the table. I figured I'd be punished, maybe whipped or sliced up again by silver. My body was ready to welcome the pain. To my surprise all he did was yell out his angers and leave. It hasn't happened again since.

If I'm being completely honest, I am at a loss. I have no information that would be even slightly useful to Noah. I don't know how this pack trains. I don't know how many members it holds. The only thing I have come to learn is what the alpha favors for meals, and something tells me that is not useful. I've pondered in my own mind for many hours; what can I do to earn trust? It's become seemingly apparent that I will not gain anything without it.

This is part of the reason as to why I've stuck with my duties so diligently. He treats me like a slave and I allow it. I do whatever is asked whenever it is asked, but still nothing. Part of me -a larger part than I'd care to admit- wants to please me mate. My inner beast hasn't even complained about not being able to run freely. This is the longest I have ever gone without releasing her since I first shifted. She enjoys her freedom. We are a lot alike in that manner, but she would willingly sacrifice it to please her other half.

My mate has avoided me like I have an incurable sickness. The rational part of me is happy about this, but my heart and soul ache. I'm surrounded by his sent, and it does wonders to soothe me, but it dosent cure me. I crave him. I crave him in a way I've never craved a male in my entire life. Being so close, but so faraway is pure torture. I've changed my sleeping habits so I can rise in time to see him and stay awake long enough to catch a fleeting glance before we both fall asleep. Beyond this, I desperately miss any form of social interaction. Wolves are social creatures. His home is barren of any sort of visitors. The silence that inhabits this space during the day nearly drives me crazy. I'm forced to talk aloud to myself or else I am afraid I will forget how to speak all together.