Lexie is not a warrior. In fact, Lexie is a painter. Her hands are always covered in paint. Never coming off. Always there. For Lexie, painting is an escape. An escape from her pain. She paints to avoid the darkness that is in her soul. She paints t...
Since my mate was an Alpha, the Alpha of my own pack wanted to personally oversee the transfer.
When father woke up, Mark and I had to tell him the news.
"Lexie, that's amazing."
I look at Mark, but his hard eyes are trained upon father as he smiles at me.
"An Alpha." He laughs then. A disbelieving laugh. Like he can't believe it. Like fate was so funny.
"An Alpha...," he whispers the same words again. I see Mark's hand twitch. Watch his eyes mist over. I smell the dominance from him as he tries to regain control of his wolf.
Something about father's words are making him angry.
But father doesn't notice it.
He's to caught up in the spell of me being useful for once.
He grabs my hand, looking down at the paint splatters, "You need to stop."
I clench my other fist but don't say anything as father continues, "You're going to be a Luna now Lexie. A Luna." The words are spoken with wonder. Awe.
"Luna's are warriors. They lead their pack when their Alpha is gone. You can't defend the pack with a paint brush. You defend it with your teeth. With your claws." He rubs the faint lines of black that are smudged on my fingers.
Black from my obsession with the stranger who was now real.
"You need to stop."
He looks up at me, waiting for my answer.
"I...I don't know."
We stand in silence as dad's eyes narrow down on me.
His grip tightens on my hand, almost to the point where I want to pull away. I see Mark step forward. See his nail elongate as his claws involuntarily come out.
Father still is oblivious.
"If you don't he will reject you."
That gets my attention. Mark interrupts though, "I think this should be a conversation between Lexie and her mate."
"Quiet Mark."
The command has Mark and I blinking twice in disbelief. Dad never commanded Mark. Mark was the golden boy.
He refocuses his attention on me, "Lexie." His voice is different. Harder. Rough. I want to put my hands over my ears and tune him out. I want to paint. Escape. But he has my hand. Captured in his grip.
"If he rejects you, then I reject you."
An audible gasp leaves my mouth. "Wha...,"
"You will amount to nothing in life. Nothing. This is your chance. I won't see you waste it. So give. It. Up."
I feel a lone tear escapes from my left eye.
Just one tear.
Dad doesn't flinch. Doesn't apologize for his words.
Because he truly believes them.
Truly thinks them to be right.
Why apologize for speaking your truth.
"I will."
Mark yanks me back, no longer hiding his fangs now as he bares them at father, "You don't get a say in this." I shiver at the growl that erupts from him.
Dad shakes his head, tired from his words as he lays back down on the bed, "One day you'll understand Lexie. That there are things we do, and things we don't do. Survival comes first. This is the way of the wolf. Learn it and get use to it."
I nod, numb from the sensation that is running through me.
Mark pulls me back, towards the door.
"This is the last time you'll see her," he hisses. I jerk my head up in surprise and look at father. He doesn't even look surprise. He just nods.
"Good luck Lexie." It's the last words I hear before Mark drags me out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
"Asshole," he mumbles. He takes my hand and leads me outside.
I look down at it.
At the stains and smudges.
"You don't have to wash them."
I look up and see that Mark also is looking at my hands.
"You don't have to wash them Lexie. It's a part of you. Keep it."
I don't say a word as he leads me to the pack house.
What I can't voice out loud, is that maybe, even though it's a part of me, it still is not good.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
