The Hunter's Alpha

15 Stranger

Amber

Months passed, and I began to feel more comfortable in my new surroundings, although I still often woke aching for the alpha I had left behind. I worked as much as I could and otherwise did what I wanted. Sarah made friends wherever she went, and I hovered on the edge of her circle. She tried to include me, but it seemed I was destined to be a shadow in the background.

"Why don't you come out with me tonight?" she prodded me.

I had a rare weekend off, and I searched for a good reason to refuse. "I don't have the money," I said, settling on my favourite excuse. It wasn't entirely a lie. I was saving, but it was not as if I had a lot of disposable income.

She rolled her eyes. "I'll pay for you. It's my birthday, you have to come." She then fixed the most precious puppy dog eyes on me that I had ever seen.

"Oh, stop that already. I'll go, just this once. I can pay my own way though."

"I thought you didn't have the money."

"I don't. I'll have to hit my savings."

"Amber, I don't want—"

"It's fine, it's your birthday." My own birthday was a mystery to me, but at least I could help Sarah enjoy hers.

"If you say so," she said, almost sounding like she felt guilty.

Sarah got ready in a slinky blue dress, and then she dressed me like a doll in a black skirt and a red shirt that made me feel rather exposed. I wondered what her cousin would think if he could see me now. With hair down and curling and moderate heels on my feet, and I was ready for what was to come, more or less. A few of Sarah's friends came over that evening and they cracked open a couple of bottles of wine, along with the cake I had made for Sarah earlier in the day.

"You drink like a sailor," one of the girls, a brunette named Greta, chirped as she clinked glasses with Sarah.

"Your ability to hold alcohol is truly phenomenal," agreed Cindy, the black haired beauty of the group.

I smiled at their conversation and continued to listen quietly, as Sarah thrust a glass into my hand. I wondered with a sad twinge if he had indirectly paid for this as well, but I shoved the thought away and began to sip my drink.

Greta held her glass aloft, "To Sarah, the birthday girl with the craziest alcohol tolerance I've ever seen in my life."

"Aw, it's nothing. Just takes a lot of practice," Sarah lied graciously. I smiled. These girls could practice until their livers imploded and they could never achieve Sarah's werewolf tolerance.

They continued chattering and drinking and more people came over to celebrate Sarah. While I didn't have Sarah's tolerance, I had come to discover that my own was pretty good compared to the other humans, and combined with the fact that I was drinking at about half the pace of the others, I could barely feel the effects by the time we were set to leave.

The bar was overwhelming. It was all darkness cut by intrusive lights, and noise from the music and the shouted conversations. I followed the others, mostly focusing on keeping myself as unseen as possible.

I had come far in my time living on my own with Sarah. I was learning to push aside my instincts and speak up for myself, but there were still some situations that seemed too much for me and I just couldn't get past them.

But at least Sarah was fun. Even though she was a reminder of who I had left behind, I had come to genuinely care for her and I was pretty sure that she was my friend, although that niggling doubt remained.

The girls brought drinks and I obediently took mine. We sat at a table, and then they decided to dance. I stayed at the table, not really in the mood to pretend I knew what I was doing.