The Alpha's Daydream ✔️

Chapter 41

3751 words

The hallway was shadowed by the doors closed on either side, only a few shafts of sunlight spearing through the occasional window.

Ariella hadn't been here before, and it wasn't hard to wonder why. It was on the top floor of the Alpha's estate, through two doors that were obscured by bookcases and antique decor, and down a corridor reserved for servants.

Malachi explained that no one had used it for decades, as the information contained in the offices down the end of the hallway was pivotal to the founding family of the pack, and no one wanted to disturb the history contained there. Why it was all kept a secret, he couldn't say exactly. He'd always been curious, but his father kept dismissing his requests to enter the offices and peruse what he would find. After all, Dennison knew all there was to being an Alpha, and didn't need guidance from musty diaries of previous Alphas. He wanted to remove himself from anyone telling him what to do, and run DoubleEdge his own way.

His son Malachi was the complete opposite. He wanted to know the secrets of the past, and learn from what had worked for centuries. No point inventing the wheel a second time.

So now, he jumped at the chance of exploring it with his future Luna by his side.

Ariella had explained briefly of her nightmares after his prodding and comforting assurances, and they didn't sound all too dissimilar to his own. Once she got started on sharing her innermost thoughts, he watched her crumble, her strong front finally cracking to reveal how deeply she felt things. She always appeared so brave and confident, but he now realised she had been hiding her true feelings, trying to earn a good reputation of being strong and fierce no matter what others said or did around her.
When inside, perhaps she was just as scared as him.

"So according to the whispers, this office of my great-great-great-grandfather has documents and diaries that detail the founding of the pack," he commented as he paused outside the largest, mahogany door at the end of the hall, the frame gilded in elegant scrollwork.

"Sounds interesting, but what's this got to do with our dreams?" Ariella peered around his arm to see the door, her warm breath tingling the fine hairs on his bare skin.

"My grandmother used to tell me stories before she passed away. She said that one of the Alphas—maybe her grandpa, I'm not sure which generation—had dreams. Dark ones, full of death and suffering. They started plaguing him a few months before trouble really began. His pack, over a number of years, then began fighting with an enemy that kept crossing his borders."

"Another pack?"

"No. There were a lot more alliances back in those days."

"So, rogues?'

"Not quite. Legend says the enemy would appear out of nowhere, stalking the pack members beneath cloaks like invisibility, then striking when the fear of them had reached its peak. They hunted the wolves for sport."

He felt her bristle and take a quick breath before saying her next guess.

"Demons?" She entwined her fingers around his arm and hovered close.

"Maybe. My ancestor's pack battled for years, always coming up with new ways to trap the dark intruders. It was all the more difficult when some of the pack members would actually welcome the creatures in hopes of receiving power or some other secret mysteries.

Finally the fighting settled down, whether the strange creatures left, or were beaten, no one is sure. The stories were buried, only talked of in hushed whispers, and never in front of the Alphas. They wanted to forget it ever happened, my grandma said. Why, she could only guess. Blackmail and bribes were as common as alliances, so maybe everyone was just afraid of things unseen."