The War of the Alphas: Book 1 of the Wolf Rising Saga

43| Lunar Claw Pack

LUNAR CLAW PACK: ALPHA HUDSON

Brielle's POV

The heat of the North Carolina sun beats down on me, as well as the rest of the pack. No amount of sweet tea and home cooked sweet potatoes can sway the shining sun and it's fire.

"When will it ever get colder," my Mom asks, fanning herself with a napkin.

"Soon dear," my Dad answers her. "In a couple months I suppose. It's only September."

My Mom groans, letting her head fall back in exasperation.

"Would you like to come inside for a moment," spoke a voice. We turned around in our seats to see Lacy, the former Beta's mate. She's just as I remembered, long brown hair like her son, lean like her daughter, and eyes that could turn anyone to stone.

Quickly, I look away, not daring to meet her stare. She hasn't spoken a word to me since my arrival, but the distaste she has for me has not been hidden. Once upon a time, we were close. She treated me like her daughter, more so than her real one.

"There's air conditioning inside," she tells my Mom, with a hand on her shoulder. "Please, I insist. You look to be uncomfortable."

My Mom looks towards me for confirmation, as if I'm going to dictate what she can and can't do. Instead, my Dad steps in, telling his mate to go along. Once the women are gone I look up towards my Dad.

"She hasn't changed one bit."

He raises a brow, looking at me curiously before turning back towards his plate of food. He picks at it with his fork, bringing a piece of fried pickle to his mouth. If there's one thing I didn't miss about my home town while I was travelling, it would be the food. Why does everything have to be fried in the south? North Carolina is hardly the south even, so I don't know why we try.

"Lacy? No, perhaps not. She's still kind as ever, but it can hurt like a bîtch when she slaps you."

"I'm not talking about the former Beta's mate. I'm speaking about Mom. She still needs someone to tell her what to do all the time."

His eyes grow cold instantly. "I'd watch what you say about your Mother. You have done nothing, but hurt this family. You have no right to speak about her that way." My Dad stands to his full height, grabbing his plate off the table and taking it with him inside. I close my eyes in frustration as he leaves.

Too soon, his seat is taken by another. I open my eyes to see Nike sitting across from me, no expression on her face.

"Do you still hate these Pack barbeques," I ask her, even though I know the answer.

"I hate every kind of Pack gathering. Everybody looks at me weirdly, they always have."

I nod my head in understanding. At first I was just as everyone else. When I saw Nike I would try to put as much distance between us that I could, I would never start a conversation with her, and all together try to pretend she didn't exist. It was easier that way, for everyone. It still is, I see.

But after I met Lincoln, I got to know her, the girl under the black clothing and straps of knives around her waist. I met the girl who tried, for everyone's sake, to look brave. She wasn't though, she was terrified. Anyone would be, if they were her.

I look at her now, her cold lifeless eyes that hold nothing but resentment for every person here. She won't admit that though, but I know. She was once my sister, I knew her better than anyone in the world.

I have to look away as a lump forms in my throat. In less than a month she'll be gone. She'll leave this pack and never return. The next time I see her will be in the Great Forest, with the moon goddess.