Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

Ella

I’ve never really done drugs. I experimented in college like most people, and I’ve partaken at a few parties over the years, but nothing in my limited experience prepared me for the ether. As soon as Leon injects it, I immediately feel it taking control.

The room around me becomes sharper and more blurred, the walls seeming to vibrate with energy. I close my eyes against the strange visual stimuli, and a kaleidoscope of color explodes to life against my eyelids, filling the black void with light. I feel lighter than air, oddly euphoric, and my already sharp wolf senses become even more vivid. In some ways my body feels very far away, yet in others, I can’t help but revel in the feeling of the sofa’s cloth against my skin, or the new notes I detect in the distant chime of bells in the city.

“How are you feeling, Ella?” Leon inquires, and even his voice sounds different, deeper and more complex.

“High.” I admit honestly, peeking my eyes open again and marveling at the way the painting on the wall in front of me seems to be moving.

“That’s normal.” Leon says, nodding. “Is it a relaxed high or an overwhelming one?”

I pause before answering, feeling as though my brain is on a delay. “It’s a little overwhelming.” I admit, checking in on the corner of my mind inhabited by my wolf. She’s sprawling peacefully, free of the aggression and anxiety that consumed her a few minutes ago. Instead her tongue rolls from her mouth as she stretches and enjoys the sensations flowing through us, even rolling over and rubbing herself against the ground.

I don’t need any explanation for my wolf’s behavior, because I feel the same languid comfort and ease. My thoughts are quiet, but my body is buzzing with sensation. I snuggle deeper into the cushions, wishing I was in my nest. I consider asking to move – everything there is so much softer and nicer – but somewhere in the back of my head I’m aware that this wondrous state of mind is probably going to be undone by the therapy ahead. I don’t want to ruin my safe space by letting something bad happen there. Still, I’m so busy thinking about my lovely nest that I forget I was supposed to be answering a question.

Wracking my brain to recall what Leon had asked, I say, “But I feel a lot calmer than I did a minute ago.”

“Good. Let’s go ahead and get started.” Leon proposes, leaning back in his seat. “Think back for me Ella, what’s the first thing you can remember of your life?”

myself

least. My childhood is kind of a blur, small flashes and an understanding of things that happened, but few scenes that I can recreate in my

the ones I want to remember least, the things that scarred me so badly a single sound smell can take me right back to that place. “The

old were you then?” Leon inquires

I guess, “old enough to have figured out how to sneak out of our

I got to the kitchen my plan fell apart because

you were caught?” Leon presses, taking me deeper into

I’m not used to feeling emotions – normally I just think them, aware that/they exist, but unable to manifest them completely. It’s almost as if they’re trapped in a glass display case.. or they were. Now the glass

that isn’t true. For the first time, I’m able to follow this memory past being

punishment box?”

it as kids.” I sigh. “It was where they put young children who misbehaved: this tiny room in the bas.ement, with no lights and no windows. They’d lock us inside and leave us in the

of

like his son had when I shared the a.buse I suffered with him – like a man determined to find the people

the outside. Sometimes parents would come to see if there were

when they came though. We

never met anyone from the

tell he’s trying to keep the emotion from his voice, I sense a hint of disappointment, as if this fact means