Chapter 338 Lucas: We Are Alpha

Danger.

An insistent whisper that pierces a cloud of dreams and memories, a place I cannot escape.

But it fades, and the urgency within it does too.

"You'll be Alpha one day, Lucas. You'll have to learn to put your people first."

"But Father, that has nothing to do with blackberry pies." Clinging to a branch high above my father's head, I'm refusing to come down and face punishment.

Kellan's already been taken by his father, the scary-faced Jericho. Me? I ran my blackberry-stained face into the forest, knowing Father—the pack Alpha—would tan my hide for stealing a few pies.

Mom always did love to bake.

"Those pies were to go to the widows of last night's raid," Father says, his face fading and blurring from view.

Danger, that strange voice whispers again, and I sit up on the branch, no longer five years old.

I'm older now, but still a child.

Father argues with Uncle Jericho. We're in a dense patch of woods, where sunlight barely reaches. I'm hiding behind a bush, straining to catch every word.

Their voices are laden with tension. My chest tightens as I drink in Father's face, committing every line and shadow to memory. A dull ache spreads through me, a pain I can't quite place.

"He drinks only from animals," Jericho insists, his gruff voice earnest. "He has no interest in harming people."

Father's jaw clenches, his hands curling into fists. His entire body is tense. "He's too newly turned, Jericho. You can't possibly believe he has control over his instincts."

Their words echo in my mind, stirring a primal fear I've been taught since birth. Vampires are dangerous. Vampires can't be trusted.

But Uncle Jericho stands his ground, his broad shoulders set with determination. "You're too prejudiced against vampires. This isn't about ancient history anymore."

"Why would you put the pack's safety over someone you barely know?"

It's rare to see Father this agitated, his usual calm demeanor cracking. Flaring nostrils. Fists that tremble as his knuckles turn white. A sour, bitter scent that permeates the air.

This forbidden conversation keeps me rooted to my spot. I'm downwind. They don't see me.

Jericho's expression softens, his next words catching me off guard. "All supernaturals should have each other's backs in this world. We're all fighting the same battle. We should open our minds to new possibilities rather than living in the past."

"Why doesn't he settle in the established supernatural communities? Why live like a ghost among humans?"

this vampire means no harm, he'd seek out others of his kind? Father's right. I can feel it in my

a wanderer by nature," Jericho explains, his tone almost defensive. "Not everyone fits into neat little boxes,

words have reached him. But then

low and

to understand. Father's face blurs, and I reach out, trying to grasp this memory that feels both familiar and

again, pulling me back to a reality I can't quite grasp. The forest dissolves, leaving

am I?

Lucas. Alpha.

of… of what? The pack name eludes me, slipping from

the universe. She smiles, and my heart aches. I want to hold

I'm... an Alpha? Yes, that feels right. But something's wrong. I'm

not who I should

Danger. Ava's in danger.

my mind, a beacon in the fog of confusion. It's familiar, comforting, yet filled with unexplainable

at it, desperate to understand why it feels so right, so much a

Don't leave.

me

Danger. Ava's in danger.

name ignites a fierce protectiveness I can't

Why does

blue-eyed woman.

their faces twisted in feral snarls, lunging at familiar people, though I

Blood.

Death.

Despair.

power. Power beyond anything I've

return, with

They're all in danger.

wail in terror, their cries

No, escaping.

people, they're important to me. They're... my pack? Yes, that feels

should be there, protecting them,

not. I'm trapped here, in this limbo of fractured

a woman with long blonde curls catches my eye. Something about her pulls at me, demanding my focus. As I study her face, recognition

Ava. My Ava.

My mate.

fear. She's

in this strange place of memories that ebb and flow of its own

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