Lost in Translation

Chapter 4: The Consequences of Pickpocketing

———Anthony———

Saturday, May 4th, 2019

I was tense almost the entire way to the Administrative Building, only relaxing when I turned into the lobby and away from the path of Ben's scent trail, although it was obvious he had been here earlier today. I immediately ducked into the stairwell, thankful, for once, for the small and isolated space and the modicum of privacy it afforded.

Now that I was farther away from anything that smelled like Ben, my mind was starting to clear. My stomach was still knotted with apprehension, but I was no longer in a hazy panic. My dominant feeling right now was something of an artful blend of annoyance and discomfort. More so than normal, anyway.

I pounded my way up the stairs, not bothering to stop on any of the flights as I took out my frustration on each step. By the time I reached the fourth floor, my legs were screaming in protest, and my breath was slightly labored. I fucking hated cardio, but I hated the fact that I had sensed a fucking mate more.

I didn't want a mate. I still don't want a mate. Most wolves still believed in some form of mythology or religion, whether that was nature spirits or gods or Fate or whatever, but I did not. We simply existed as a part of nature. There was no higher power out there crafting us a perfect partner, it was just a part of our biology. Mates did not always work out. I knew that better than anyone.

I reached the top of the stairwell and finally took a moment of rest, leaning against the wall for a moment before striding down the hall towards the door to Darius' quarters. The top floor of the Administrative Building was reserved for the Alphas and their family. It was divided into a handful of apartments, although most of them were unoccupied since none of my siblings had formed bonds until now, and I chose to live in the house I inherited from my biological mother.

"Anthony!" The door swung open as my hand was raised mid-knock. Marcus, the youngest of my older adoptive siblings, appeared before me looking shocked. He had grown out his hair a bit since I had left for college and had styled it into slightly lightened twists. He was wearing grey sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt that was struggling to stretch across his chest.

"What– I mean why– I mean.... you're here!" He stuttered.

"Very observant. Good to see all those protein shakes haven't rotted your brain," I monotoned. "Are you going to let me in?"

"Why are you here?" Marcus said as he pulled me in for a hug. Marcus was an inch or two shorter than me, but he was a gym rat, and it absolutely showed in his stocky muscular build—a build he was currently using to squeeze every particle of oxygen out of my body.

"Marcus, let him breathe," Sarah said with a chuckle, leaning against the doorway into the living room. Marcus let me go reluctantly, still beaming. I gave Sarah a wave of thanks as I rubbed my ribs tenderly. Sarah pushed off from the wall and strode over, pulling me into a firm hug of her own. One that had a more reasonable amount of force.

"Welcome home, Ant," Sarah said warmly. Her hair was shaved short, which was a change from the long braids she had the last time I saw her. She was about the same height as Marcus and was dressed in gym shorts and an athletic top that showed off her considerable upper body muscle. She might not be as stupidly huge as Marcus was in the muscle department, but you could definitely see the sibling resemblance there.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

"Why are you here?" Marcus, still looking a little shell-shocked. Sarah punched him in the arm before I got a chance to respond.