In the Alpha’s Arms

The New Normal

The world was still dark when Lita seapped awake. Her eyes immediately took a tour of the room, assuring herself that she was home. Sweat slipped down her throat, hair plastered to her back and shoulders. She couldn’t breathe… she couldn t… Lita wheezed clutching her chest. Fuck The nightmares still hadn’t gone away. She wiped away the sweat on her brow and pushed up in bed. Cole’s hand squeezed her hip once before he roll over to go back to sleep. A silent gesture he’d started when she insisted she didn’t want him waking up with her. He was hardheaded about it for the first week after they got back home. But now, he let her have her space. She wanted to be alone when the woke like this, struggling with what was real and what was fake. And as hard as it must have been for him, Cole let her.

She didn’t have the nerve to tell him she couldn’t always tell if he was real. This way was better until she could re center herself. Throwing her legs over the edge of the bed, Lita forced herself to focus on what was real. The hardwood floor Cole finally finished two days ago. The new bed shed picked out last week. It still had that new–bed squeak on his side. The dresser with the dent where she’d bumped the dour moving it in. She ran her finger over the paint lines and blew a breath. It was an exercise her new therapist had recommended. A way to make her mind differentiate between dreams and the real world. Predictable. Mundane.

The nightmare tonight wasn’t a new one. It was much the same as the other variations her mind concocted. She’d started out in Cole’s armis, happy and safe. He kissed her deeply and they made love until she fell asleep. Then she was thrust awake by the cold bark of water over her face as she went under. Hands pressed her into the cracked concrete of the pit floor. She thrashed and tried to kick but nothing helped. The hands were impossibly strong, her body impossibly weak. Water found its way into her lung. Then the dream morphed and she was hacking up a lang onshore, dirt and swamp wet clinging to her. She desperately comiled up the embankment towards the totaled car Smoke and her teary eyes turned the world hazy Her brother’s bloodied body was barely visible through the smashed windshield, nothing more than a dark outline. She couldnt even stream, her throat too full of water.

And now she was here, safe in the real world of her bathroom, staring at her bloodshot eyes in the mirror, Lita swore. Her therapist said trauma would take time but she was exhausted. How much longer would she torture herself? Running her hands under the cool water, the washed her face and brushed her teeth.

Then, fishing out a set of workout clothes, Lita dressed and tagged on her sneakers. Grabbing her phone and headphones, the checked the time. Just after three in the morning. She sighed as she opted for the stairs instead of the fancy elevators Cole had installed in their home. Spending Maum 1 filthy money on their creature comforts felt oddly satisfying. She hoped he had a great view from hell.

Snagging a quick drink of water and a few bites of a protein bar, Lita stretched her aching muscles for a few minutes. Tugging on a fleece–lined jacket, Lita headed out into the bitter cold of the early morning dark. April, and the long awaited spring, had arrived overnight it seemed. Long nights and dim days gave way to the gentle warmth. The rights and early mornings were still wintery though, much to her displeasure. Bitter frost and the familiar sting as she drew cold air into her langs greeted her as she took her first jogging steps.

Lita jogged through the new areas of the packgrounds to see the progress on the new housing units. She smiled at all the work the men had been putting in. They had the beginnings of a family center, converted from one of the larger industrial buildings. The old packhouse was being renovated to make it three times larger. And most of the smaller new homes were almost done. They didn’t have enough industrial buildings left over to convert for housing for the new additions they assimilated so they’d built them from scratch using standard materials,

moving boxes and building materials made her feel happy. It was reassuring to see the pack getting settled in. As if knowing her heart was starting to feel good, her mind

fact that fifty people decided they couldn’t stomach ber as their new Luna. Fifty single individuals. looked at

pride or her twisted sense of self- deprecation, Lita couldn’t stop wondering about the people who said

interlaced with images of her time in maxim’s pack. One that remembered the screams and the pain. Then remised through all the traumatic moments of her childhood with her dismissive parents. Of course, Brian made a

out of shape and sleep deprived. It felt like shed reverted back to the broken girl who first came here last summer looking for a new life. She wasn’t sure whether

door to the gym open. Lita expected to

instead, she saw a handful of women shoving these

in the gym alone? one woman asked, her fare unsure

training. Of course, training wasn’t a requirement. Pack members could find other ways to be useful outside of competitive fighting for purse money but it had bothered her that more of the women

never considered they didnt feel comfortable training with the others. What would it have been like Lita wondered, to grow up in captivity like that? Being told every day that life would be a certain way. And then being thrust into a pack where life wasn’t like that at all it had to feel like a trick… it had to feel like a set–up. That as soon as they showed any interest, they would be punished. Lita wanted to hit her head against the wall. Of course, they wouldn’t want to

that coming. A good Luna would have anticipated the needs of her pack and known that the women would be terrified of being punished. She herself was dealing with the aftermath of her time in captivity. She could only guess what kinds of mental and physical scars

gym to myself,” she forced herself to say, her throat roughened by the cold air, “Can I ask what techniques you plan to practice?” She kept her tone conversational, gently setting her phone and headphones