My Alpha and His Companion

gone to bed. She tends to fall asleep early, which I expect. Slowly shutting the door behind me, mak

oking. My bed sits in the middle of the room in between two windows that view the trees surrounding us

ant to follow. I shrug off my coat and lay it on the back of my desk chair, another past work of my grandfather. His tools

rough my mind is the stream; its frigid, soft current flows through me as if something is tell

e into the air of my empty bedroom. My voice barely breaks the

self." The angelic voice fi

ong, flowing white dress and silky, endless hair that seems to float around her, not touching her porcelain, unearthly skin

lf tighter as if I could hide from her elusive wisdom. She never gives me direct answers, only rid

ng right in front

mother about what I was doing-told her I was meeting a friend at the library, that I need

t see what's on the othe

's no big deal,

ake my decision, as she decided to keep her opinion out of this. Although she tends to do that frequently. Most of t

. Just the soft babble of the stream and the quickened beat of my heart.

the first rock. Cold air bites at my face, and the stone beneath my foot is slick with moss. I wobble s

clarity, or at least a spark of courage. But it doesn't. The stone is just a stone.

and move o

uld do this

inds me again, sounding somew

n her. I take a deep breath before stepping back onto

ces, my wolf commen

agged and wide. I'm halfway across now. The current rushes below me, not deep

, darker. The forest feels different beyond the stream, older someh

ore s

ore c

en I'm

e drops as if I've stepped into another world. I turn back to glance at the st

olf

hing'

ine. I don't know where I'm going, but my feet move an

, smoke, something warm and unfamiliar. My wol

the trees, heart p

right. Maybe I do have to

if I'm

r side of the stream is ev

thing I've bee