The Alpha's Daydream ✔️

Chapter 54

3836 words

I awake to silence.

Rolling over and opening my eyes a crack, I realise it is still dark, dawn having not yet approached. I pull the covers up further under my chin and try to go back to sleep, but something keeps me awake, aware, conscious.

It is the silence.

No sound reaches my ears. No sway of the tree branches outside the window, no soft breath from Sammy in the guest room two doors down the hall. Not even the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock that reverberates throughout the house can be heard.

The heavy stillness prods me to sit up and peer around me. A pale greyness seeps through the curtained windows, casting the room in a weak and sickly pallor. The dress I bought yesterday hangs from the closet door, stiff and ghostlike.

I take a breath yet the air feels stale. It fills my lungs but leaves me wanting more, needing more sustenance. I place my hand over my chest and press lightly, an instinctual and subconscious gesture when I can't get enough air.

A muffled thud draws my attention to the adjoining bathroom, and my limbs stiffen as my ears strain for any more sound. The metallic buzz of a zip sliding into place. Soft padding of feet on cool tiles. A sharp intake of breath and a mumbled curse.

I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and rise, noting my head doesn't feel dizzy like it normally does when I stand too quickly. I slide open the bathroom door quietly and stare at Malachi's reflection in the mirror. His back is to me as he leans on the benchtop. One hand holds a razor blade, the other is pressed to his mouth and his face is scrunched in a grimace. I see a dark drop of blood on the sink, black against the white porcelain, and deduce what happened.

"Malachi, are you okay?" I walk over to him and place my hand on his arm.

He shifts away from me, covering my view. "I'm fine." His words are clipped, his tone beckoning no argument.

"What are you doing?" I ask as he quickly shoves the razor in a black leather toiletries bag, along with his bottle of coconut shampoo that I like so much. It is early, and though I know he is often up before the sun and getting ready for the day, what he's doing now isn't usual.

It looks like he is packing.

"You were right, the other night," he says airily, and I wrack my brain, trying to remember what I said. He continues in the same apathetic tone of voice, "This is your room, your place in the pack. I can't keep messing it up for you."

I figure he is referring to the night I refused him access to his own bed, claiming it was mine since I am the rightful Luna. I was being childish, and I thought we'd moved beyond this. Of course I want to share a room and bed with my mate.

"So I'm leaving."

"What?!"

"You deserve better than this," he says as he finally turns to face me. His eyes linger on my mouth before gliding up to my own, as if he is reluctant to let me see into the windows of his soul.

Because that's what they are—windows. Empty, black, obsidian irises that bleed into his pupils with no distinction. A cold chill snakes down my spine, and my breathing becomes shallow.
"I don't understand..." I try and gather my thoughts, try to understand what is going on.

"I can't hide this from you any longer. I've decided to be with Cally, so the sooner we cut off whatever was between you and me, the better for everyone."

"Cally?" Her name suddenly tastes like sandy grit in my mouth.

"You're stronger than anyone I know. You'll be a great Luna for this pack. You don't need a miserable failure of an Alpha tearing you down all the time. I should be gone beyond the border before sun-up." He says hastily, and moves past me to exit the bathroom.