Alpha Hole

Ch. 47

Jaxson's snarl echoed through the space.

Realizing that the threat had vanished before our eyes, he shifted back to human form.

I tried not to be affected by the sight of him standing there, raw and powerful. His hands were on me, grabbing my arms, pulling me to him.

I was shaking, trying to control the emotions swirling inside me. Trying to focus on the situation that was most important in the moment.

That man had come for me. He had every intention of taking me away—to who knows where.

"Who the fuck was that?" Jaxson's voice was a rough growl as he held me to his chest.

A whimper escaped my lips, but the words wouldn't come.

His mother moved to grab a pair of shorts that Eric was carrying and handed them to Jaxson. I took a step back to let him dress before he pulled me under his arm, as if letting me go might make the man suddenly reappear.

Chris was shaking his head, "He just appeared in the hallway—out of nowhere."

A low growl vibrated in Jaxson's chest, and then his father was there.

"What's happened?" Alpha Jonah asked, looking at Jaxson.

"A mage, maybe," Jaxson said.

His father's expression tightened. "I see."

Confusion swirled within me at their words—yet another reminder of how inept I was to navigate this world.

"He said he was here because of Layla," Bianca offered sweetly to the Alpha.

The Alpha's intense gaze shifted to me.

"Did you know him?" Alpha Jonah's voice was full of accusation.

My mouth hung open momentarily at the accusation. "No," I managed after collecting myself.

His gaze lingered on me as if he were trying to find the truth in my eyes before he looked at Jaxson. "Take her to the safe room."

Then he looked at Chris. "Go retrieve the seer—she will need to read Layla."

Jaxson stopped walking and his eyes narrowed on his father. "You think this is somehow her fault?"

"I think we had a security breach, and I will use whatever means are at the pack's disposal."

Clearly, Jaxson didn't seem too thrilled by this, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me to an area of the packhouse where I'd never been.

The air in the safe room felt thick, almost suffocating. Jaxson paced back and forth, his normally composed demeanor shattered by the intrusion we had just faced.

I sat on the edge of a narrow cot, my fingers gripping the edge so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Every sound seemed amplified—the rustle of Jaxson's clothes, the creak of the wooden floor, even the faint ticking of an unseen clock.

A soft knock at the door made us both jump. Jaxson moved swiftly to open it, revealing the woman who I had seen that day at the clinic.  Her white hair cascaded down her back, and her eyes—an unsettling mix of blue and gray—seemed to pierce right through me.

"Matilda," Jaxson greeted her, his voice taut.

She nodded slightly, her gaze shifting from Jaxson to me. "Layla," she said, her voice low and smooth, like a dark river.

"Matilda," I replied, trying to match her calm demeanor but feeling the tremor in my voice betray me.

"Jaxson," Matilda continued, "I'm afraid I'll need you to step outside, dear."

His eyes narrowed, but he nodded reluctantly. "I'll be right outside, Layla."

Once the door closed behind him, Matilda turned back to me, her eyes softer but still holding that inscrutable depth. "You have questions," she stated, rather than asked.

I nodded, feeling a lump form in my throat. "I do, but—"

"You don't know what to ask?" Matilda's eyes narrowed slightly, as if weighing how much to reveal. "He was perhaps from an ancient order. They are called the Lycanthari, and their interest in you is... significant."

"Why?" I asked, the words bursting out of me. "What could they possibly want with me?"

Her gaze flickered to the door before returning to me. "Because you carry a bloodline long hidden from their kind. A bloodline that holds great power. And probably most significantly, you are the last female who carries a significant amount of this ancient blood who is of child-bearing age."

"But why would that matter?" I asked, feeling a surge of panic and helplessness.

Matilda's expression softened just a fraction. "It means that you are possibly destined for more than you realize. I've seen a cord of your future, Layla. Your lineage ties back to the origins of the werewolves, to a time when the Lycanthari ruled with both wisdom and ferocity. They were the creators, the ones who first harnessed the bond between man and wolf."

I felt a chill run down my spine. "Creators? You mean they... made werewolves?"

"Yes," Matilda confirmed. "The ancients are not so far removed from seers like myself. They harness ancient magics and understand the deeper currents of destiny. They see your presence as a key to unlocking something powerful and ancient."

"But why now?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Matilda's eyes seemed to darken. "Because the time is ripe. The stars align, the old magics stir, and those who have waited in the shadows believe their time has come."
Her gaze became wistful, "Perhaps, even to repopulate their line. For I fear that with the end of their kind, so will come the end of our magic."

The weight of her words settled over me like a heavy cloak. "You can't be serious," I said, feeling a surge of helplessness.

Matilda placed a hand on my shoulder, her touch surprisingly warm. "Fear not, my child. Even those who wish to control you need you alive."

Her words hung in the air, heavy and foreboding. "How do I know who to trust?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

Matilda's eyes bore into mine. "You will learn, child. But perhaps this is a secret you should keep— for it is one that I must."

Before I could ask more, the door opened again, and Jaxson stepped back inside. Matilda gave me one last look,her eyes cut into mine in a way that seemed to say that even Jaxson shouldn't know what she had said.