Ayla: Always an Alpha

Chapter 20 - What Was (not) Smart

~Ayla~

"Can you tell me something about you that wasn't in your file?" I requested.

Killian sighed, pausing his fingers' perusal of my hair.

I'd migrated closer to him as we had talked, and my head had ended up on Killian's lower chest. At some point, he'd started gently twisting locks of my hair into his hands, and I'd been blissfully silent until my thoughts started to wander. It bothered me that I'd seen Killian practically every day for weeks now, yet I still knew nothing about him and not for lack of trying. A week ago, I asked him what his favorite foods were, and I'd received a monotonous 'I don't have any favorite foods' from him. For that reason, I didn't expect him to answer my new question at all.

To my surprise, Killian spoke after some time. "I grew up in a beach town in Maine with my uncle."

Trying to get a good look at the pensive expression on his face, I tilted my head back. "Did you like it there?"

"Loved it. It was the happiest I can ever remember being."

In spite of the bitter tone that appeared in his voice whenever he mentioned his boss, I had always assumed Killian had chosen his occupation. Now, however, I realized that I was likely wrong. What had happened to make him leave if he'd liked Maine so much?

He'd already shared more than I had expected, so I didn't want to try to broach that subject today if he wasn't offering the information. Instead, I asked something I felt I already knew the answer to. My fingers traced the tattoos on the arm resting near my head. "Is that why you have these?"

"Yes. My uncle was a lobsterman. When I wasn't in school, I was with him on his boat."

I'd always wondered why Killian had chosen to fill his left arm with a nautical themed sleeve. It was gorgeous; braided rope swirled around a compass and an anchor, all floating atop a world map. Most of our kind didn't like the ocean since it rendered all our skills useless. What's the point of having a keen sense of smell when everything smells of salt and fish? How can being able to run fast help when you're surrounded by water? We could swim, but all of our traits were very clearly developed for use on land. In spite of this, I could imagine Killian, hair whipping around his jaw, dark eyes focused on the distant skyline, a small smile forming in the corners of his mouth, standing behind the helm of a small ship. It was interesting, how seamlessly he blended in with the forest and, in my imagined scenario, with the ocean.

"He was a lone wolf?" I asked, not wanting to use the term "rogue" because of all the negative connotations of the word in our culture. What I really wanted to be asking was 'What happened to your parents?' I speculated that he may not know the answer.

"Yes."

Paired with the resumption of the tickling along my scalp, the curt reply signaled an end to the conversation. Trying not to dwell on conjectures, I attempted to clear my mind, but as soon as my thoughts drifted from unraveling the mystery that is Killian, my subconscious kept straying to the overwhelming sense of fear and inevitability that had burrowed itself into my stomach.

I wish I could say that I had so much faith in my ability to defend myself and my pack against danger that I was not intimidated at all by the threat to my life, but I couldn't. Yes, I was arguably one of the best fighters I knew. Yes, if I had not been such a strong candidate, this pack would not have so readily accepted me as their alpha when my father fell ill. But none of that guaranteed I would come out of this alive.

Although I fell asleep in the middle of an existential crisis, I felt an intense sense of peace upon waking. In fact, I felt as if I'd had the best sleep of my life. I was pleasantly warm in spite of the frost covering the large window filling my view, and my room smelled heavenly.