Alpha Hole

Ch. 2

"Who was that?" I blurted, the question tumbling from my lips in an unguarded moment.

"Aiden Holloway," she replied, the syllables woven with a thread of worry that danced within her eyes. "Believe me, Layla, it's better if you steer clear."

Her words etched a deeper intrigue into the tapestry of my thoughts. Aiden Holloway—a name that struck a chord, awakening a surge of curiosity and caution. The air crackled with unspoken tension, a charged silence where answers and mysteries brushed against each other.

Her warning only solidified what I'd felt. There was an aura around him, an energy that sent ripples through my instincts. Trouble, a voice whispered within, its echo bouncing off the walls of my consciousness.

Yet his presence persisted in my mind, a memory that wouldn't fade. It was as though he had left an invisible mark on my senses, a signature etched into the recesses of my thoughts. The weight of his gaze, the intensity of our shared moment—it all lingered, a ghostly impression that refused to dissipate.

My skin still hummed with the aftershocks of our meeting, his eyes—a deep, penetrating obsidian—seared into my memory. The resonance of his presence lingered within me, a symphony of emotions that found their place in the quiet corners of my being.

Abruptly, a figure materialized before us, a presence that bore down on me like a weight, instinct urging me to retreat, to find refuge from the tempest simmering in his gaze.

"She's practically grown," he remarked, his voice a symphony of authority and assessment.

Aunt Clara's voice wove through the air, "She's a bit older than we'd anticipated."
My gaze shot to hers.  Had she not known how old I would be?
"Layla, meet Alpha Dominic. He's—"

"The leader of Dread-wood pack," he inserted, his words etched with purpose and resonance, a declaration that held no room for doubt.

"The leader of their pack?" I whispered, the words slipping from my lips in a breathless echo, a mixture of awe and trepidation interwoven within them. The concept was both staggering and foreign, a revelation that sent a chill coursing through my veins. "So, this is... your community?" The question hung in the air, a thread of uncertainty woven into the words. The very idea that I might have inadvertently stumbled into a cult or a peculiar community sent a shiver down my spine, making the room's atmosphere feel even more charged.

The words lingered in the air, a fragile veil obscuring the curiosity and unease that whirled within me. An unspoken exchange passed between Aunt Clara and Alpha Dominic, a dialogue of concealed truths that existed just beneath the surface.

My throat cleared, a nervous sound that pierced the silence, as Aunt Clara's voice wove a narrative I'd never dared to dream of. "Layla, your parents were a part of our pack—a family bound not just by blood, but by bonds that run deeper. Did they never tell you about the pack?"

The confession escaped my lips, hesitating on the precipice of truth. "No."

Their shared glance was a language of worry and reservation, a conversation encrypted with concern and unspoken fears. It was as though they treaded cautiously, like gatekeepers withholding secrets that might alter the very fabric of my reality.

Her words held an edge of urgency, the plea beneath them undeniable. "Did your parents ever speak to you about your shifter heritage?"

Confusion knit my brows, the words unfurling like tendrils of smoke. "I'm not entirely sure I understand."

Alpha Dominic's posture shifted, an undercurrent of discomfort thrumming through the air, while Aunt Clara's gaze bore into me with a mixture of expectation and caution. "Your parents, and by extension, you— were—are wolf shifters. Much like every individual residing here in the Dread-wood Pack."

Her words pulsed like a current through the air, an electric shock that sparked a shiver along my spine. The reflex was to reject it outright, to shake my head and dismiss it as fantasy. Yet the weight of their convictions, the intensity in their eyes, gripped me like a vice, making it hard to brush aside. But yet, I couldn't believe it.

I shook my finger at them with indignation. "You know, this is real fucked up—considering I've just lost my parents. Some other time I'd think this was funny, but what the actual fuck?"

Alpha Dominic's eyes flared with a bright intensity that was primal, and his teeth elongated.

The laughter that spilled from my lips was unhinged, tears blurred my vision, a manifestation of the panic clawing its way up my throat. Instinct compelled me to flee, to escape. The moment I pivoted to run, however, his grip cinched around my wrist, the pressure as unyielding as iron.

A terror filled scream lodged in my throat.

Held in place, my heart hammered a rhythm of frantic urgency. "Wait," I pleaded as I attempted to remove his hold with my other my hand— pulling and struggling my feet made no purchase. 

I struggled against him until I fell to my knees with the exertion. 

Finally, I looked up at him.  Resolve fractured and beaten. 

"My parents were..." I started, but my voice trailed into incompleteness. "They were... unremarkable in every way. You have the wrong family."

I could see that my words fell flat, the inadequacy like a bitter taste lingering on my tongue.

"I understand that this is a lot to process, sweetheart, but we are here to help you." Aunt Clara intervened gently, her words a lifeline threading through the chaos. "And now that your parents are gone, this is the only place where you'll truly be safe."

Safe from what? The question echoed in my mind, its resonance leaving me reeling before I voiced it aloud.

"Other shifters... or rogues," Alpha Dominic elaborated, his voice a steady current in the whirlwind of my emotions.

My head shook instinctively, tears brimming at the edge of my vision, blurring the world around me. It was all too much, a storm of revelations, a tidal wave of emotions that threatened to consume me whole.