Oh, Heartless Alpha.

How it began

This was it, I thought; this is how I'll die. I felt no fear, only a vague feeling of acceptance. A man opened the cell door, the rusted metal scraping along the ground. He looked at me with both pity and pride as I stumbled out of the cage, before throwing his arms around me.

"Oh darling," he whispered in strained voice. "May the King have mercy."

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 Chapter 1 -

“Thank you so much,” the woman sobbed as she guided them up the stairs. “She’s just so sick, I don’t know what to do!”

I smiled gently and took her hand consolingly, “It’s perfectly alright, ma’am,” I assured. “Now, can you tell me what the issue is?”

She breathed out a ragged breath and started fidgeting with her hands, “I-I don’t know… She said she had a headache a few weeks ago, and then it just got worse and worse!” she cried out. “Now she can barely get out of bed; she has a terrible fever and a nasty headache!”

I squeezed her arm in reassurance, “I can promise you that she will be perfectly healthy once I’ve finished with her.” I said.

My mind went into overdrive as we ascended the stairs. This was the fifth case of sickness I’d dealt with today, and it worried me. I knew that doctors were expensive, especially in less wealthy areas such as these. Many of these hard-working people couldn’t afford to pay a doctor to help them, and it shattered my heart to see them in pain without help.

 She smiled gratefully and continued up the stairs until we reached a thin wooden door, decorated with a light purple flower. I frowned as we approached it, the whole place felt of sickness and fatigue. The woman raised a tentative hand and opened the door; I followed behind, my eyes taking in the area.

The room was illuminated by a single lamp stationed in the far corner, and the cheap yellow light showed a room trademarked of a young girl. Faded and well-worn plush toys sat lined up against the far wall, beneath the obviously hand-painted soft pink heart mural. Hand crafted paper butterflies adorned the lilac walls, and the creaky floorboards groaned as she crossed them. The mother stayed near the doorway, crying softly as she watched me approach the small bed.

Upon it lay a young girl; I would guess six or seven at age. I felt a wave of sadness wash over me as I took in her condition. She lay under a thin blanket, but I could tell her form was skinny and weak. Her skin was clammy, and with a feeling of despair I could tell that she was in a great deal of pain from her headache. This was definitely similar to the other cases, and I had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with the freezing temperatures of late. Her mother had recognized me on the streets just as I had finished curing an ill young man, and rushed over in a panic.

It was not an uncommon occurrence to me. Many a time a stranger had approached me pleading for my help for a loved one, and I gladly offered to help. My somewhat hushed reputation amongst packs was accompanied by a vague description, and most definitely a warning to keep the knowledge secret from authority. The punishment for rogues was extreme, and I was eternally grateful for the packs keeping my identity only between themselves and people who needed my assistance. I shook my head and focused on the matter at hand.

I took a seat on the small wooden stool next to the bed.  The poor girl’s hair was pasted to her forehead, and her sharp breaths were quick and shallow. Her fever glazed eyes held mine as I softly reached out to touch her forehead. I wasn’t surprised when my hand came away hot. “You shouldn’t touch me,” the young girl gasped. “It’ll make you sick too.”

I grinned and giggled at her, gently moving the hair out of her glowing red face, “Don’t worry about that sweetie, I don’t get sick.” I smiled. “In fact, I’m here to make you better.”

Her wide eyes glimmered with hope as she gazed back at me. “Really?” she breathed out.

I nodded and said, “I am indeed, but I need you to relax for me, okay?” She nodded, and leant her head back against the pillow. I took a deep, calming breath, and counted to five. On five I moved my head over hers, and placed my palm flat against her chest.

I slowed my breathing, and I felt the warmth and energy move from my body to hers. It flowed through my arm and down to my palm, and I knew that if I were to open my eyes they would be a glowing gold. I could sense her illness; feel that something was affecting her body. I focused on it and let the healing pass on from my body and into hers, feeling the sickness start to recede as I did so.

Again, this was only one of the many cases of similar sickness I’d dealt with today, and my body was already slightly fatigued. I took deep breaths, feeling my body weaken as the healing flowed out of me. The thought that she was almost cured pressed me on, so I gritted my teeth and pushed forward. I felt my strength ebbing, my body starting to feel too heavy and leaden.

With one final push of energy, I slumped beside the bed, my head ringing. I forced my head up as light footsteps echoed and loud sobbing sounded. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” the mother sobbed, clutching her daughter desperately to her. If I’d had the energy I would have assured her it was fine, but I was nearly completely drained. My vision was starting to haze, and I knew I didn’t have much time left until unconsciousness overwhelmed me.

My last glimpses of the waking world were that of a vibrant young girl. Her skin vibrated a healthy tan colour, her eyes were bright, and her breathing seemed to be perfectly normal. The sweat from the fever still wetted her hair, but a shower would fix that. If I’d had the strength I would’ve assured the mother of her child’s health, and tell her to keep her hydrated and warm. I faded into the welcoming darkness as the heavy clunking of booted feet thundered up the stairs.

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