9

~Alaya

I whirled around at the sound of the voice.

No one was there, that I could see. Instead, there was a small cut into the building, bathed in shadows. Someone was hidden in there, in one of the most unnerving places possible. If I had been tempted by the drinks on offer in the party, I might have thought I imagined the voice.

"Come out for some fresh air?"

At the man's words, I suddenly became aware of the air around me. This dress may be beautiful, but it does little to protect me from the extremities of a Desire Pack nightfall. Frigid air from the Independence Pack often blows down the mountains, plaguing the air where the buildings and crowds are thinner. Just like atop the hill, where this estate has been built.

"Who are you?" I question, the heels of my shoes sinking into the grass.

I hear a faint chuckle. "Such an empty question considering I dwell in the shadows."

Even though I shouldn't be conversing with a man who doesn't want to show his face with me, his point still had me feeling foolish. Instead of being able to reply, I was frozen to the spot, and not just by the cold.

"But if you must know," he says, finally stepping from the shadows. "I don't particularly like parties. That's part of who I am.

I know who he is. I may have never seen his face before, but stories go a long way. People always said his eyes were a reflection of his wealth, and a part of me believed that, despite how farfetched it may be. I dropped high school at the same time I dropped my belief that his eyes are the colour of molten gold, and that they are the most fantastical thing anyone has ever seen.

This moment made me beg to differ.

I must have drunk something and I just forgot. How else would he be real? I may have seen a male with cobalt blue hair and a female with rose coloured eyes, but this is different. Eye contacts and hair dye are fashion here, however, when I look into the trap that is his eyes, I know there is no hoax there. No one could create such a vivid, golden colour.

He's the Alpha of Desire. No contesting that fact. I hate to admire the dark hair that almost covers the intensity of his gaze, a contrast of light and dark. He is dressed to be an attendee of the party, in something that resembled a suit jacket, although a lot thinner with buttons glistening in the same colour of his eyes. The fabric of the jacket looking like a ebony coloured silk. The Alpha looks brilliant.

"Lost for words?"

I exhaled slowly. "You're the Alpha. You're Asher."

Those words sounded accusatory, and I believe Asher heard the tone by his next words.

"I'm many things. I promise, I am not here to replicate any one of those people's actions," he tells me. I know he is referring to Myles, the Guard and the lady from the front. He may be right, and he may be my Alpha, but that isn't go to cease my questioning.

"Why are you here then?"

His gaze takes a very deliberate path down my body. "You look cold. Perhaps my team should choose more apt dresses for the next event."

"I'm not going inside until everything is explained," I concede, folded my arms over my chest for emphasis.

Asher's gaze is unflinching. Is he used to people having an opinion around? I securely doubt it.

In fact, I would say he is so wrapped up in his world up here on the hill, that he has nothing better to do than host parties and confuse his innocent guests for his own entertainment. That's my hypothesis for this situation. Nothing else seems plausible.

"I did stress my authority and invite you here on each occasion," he admitted.

Finally, progress. "Why?"

He shrugs, a very loose and careless gesture for an Alpha. It diminished every ounce of advancement we had just made, though. For a moment, I thought I had found someone who was going to give me actual answers.

Asher seems to notice my expression of irritation. "I'm not your enemy."

"Then start acting like an ally."

There is a moments silence between us; except it's not silence, considering the music rumbling through the walls. I can't take my eyes off Asher, trying to figure out if I should run from him, or stay and here what he has to say. Out of everyone I have talked to about this, including the stupid lady at the information centre, he might just have the most answers for me.

Real answers. If he can shake the shrug from his shoulders.

"I also wrote the notes on the back, if you're wondering," he divulges.

"I assume you're not going to tell me why, either?"

"You're smart, aren't you?"

I decide then, that I've had enough. Turning on my heels, which are wedged deeply into the ground at this point, I march into the darkness. I'm not sure on my destination, but I do know that if I walk far enough down the hill, I'll find the fence and maybe then I'll be able to get over it an escape. Escape from what, exactly, I'm not sure. Unanswered questions it seems.

"Alaya, wait."

I feel Asher's hand on my arm. He's wearing satin gloves. Typical, he's a male either keeping to fashion trends, or he's not looking to find his mate tonight. At least I don't think I have a Luna yet.

"I don't want to hear it. I'm done. I want to go home and pretend like none of this ever happened, because I'm going to get more information doing that, then standing around you for another second. Also, I'm pretty sure this is all some strange part of my imagination, after drinking those ridiculous drinks inside. What are they made of anyway?"

Asher's stare stripped me bare. That, or I it was the fact that I just rambled on about who knows what, admitting to him that his presence feels more like a dream than reality.

With a sigh, Asher admitted, "they are made to trick the mind. People leave the party with little to no memory of what really happened. They are left with a whimsical idea of what could have been, rather than what was. We even offer a complimentary drink to the staff at the end of the night, also."

"So you're telling me your party is a scam?"

"Not at all. In fact, we are doing them a favour," he tells me.

That explains why I can't remember a thing from the party last year. Even Sky couldn't recall everything, and what she could, was all muddled and didn't seem very familiar. I want to slap someone. An Alpha in particularly.

"Isn't something like this illegal? And what is the point of holding a part that no one can remember? Actually, I can answer this myself. You're trying to make some kind of scene to look better than you are," I declare.

If Asher was bothered by that, he didn't show it. "You like to jump to conclusions, don't you?"

"I don't have any other choice. Have you realised you don't give very good information, do you?" I say spitefully. Asher took a deep breath, his hands folding over his front as a way to calm himself. I'm pacing, and I don't even realise it. Asher is calmer than ever, simply standing there silently, almost brooding as he watches me.

At this point, I've convinced myself he isn't real.

"It is for the betterment of the people that the main event is forgotten," Asher tells me. He says these things as if I'm not curious to know what he means.

"I'm not even going to ask," I grumble, going to turn around, however, Asher ceases my arm again.

"This is getting old-"

"Please go back inside. I can assure you-"

I pull my arm away. His tone, and the look in his eyes is making me nervous. Beneath that brilliant, glittering gold exterior of his eyes, I could see something insistant, something unauthorised. Whatever he is concealing from me, he wants to tell me, but he can't. As soon as that flicker of emotion is there, he masks it with indifference.

"This is done. I'm going home, because I have work tomorrow, which is not something I would expect an Alpha to understand," I snap.

"You should quit your job," he insists.

Had this night gone differently, I might have been confused by his sudden interest in my life. "I don't have all the money in the world to support myself. What does it matter do you anyway?"

Asher took a carefully step forward, almost anticipating my attack. "I'm the Alpha of Desire. Your desire is not in your work. I can sense-"

"You're crazy. Whoever you are, I've decided you're not my Alpha, but some sick thing in my head that this party created. Tomorrow, I'm going to figure it out, and I'm going to ruin the reputation of this stupid party..."

I barely got to finish my sentence. Asher is on me in a second, grabbing my bare arm to thrust a needle into it. Without moving, I stare at it, mortified. How do I react? Someone just put who knows what into you arm, that is probably going to kill you if you don't...I rip the syringe from my arm, letting it fall onto the grass by my feet.

"Where did you pull that from? Why?" I question, stumbling back.

Asher doesn't bother holding back his expression of contrition, as he tries to make another grab for me, but I dodge him. It would be my last attempt, as I feel myself begin to teeter, my heels almost slipping out from under me as the fast acting drug takes a hold of my control in tight fists.

"Apologies. Maybe next year," he says gently.

I wish I had fallen back and hit my head instead of being caught by his satiny soft gloves, feeling his suit against my cheek. He smells like jasmine. A scent that I believe will stay with me forever, as the drug drags me under.

***

I wake up dramatically in a flurry of sheets and hair.

After just being pinned down by a nightmare, waking up lifted something phantom off my chest. The day and time takes a few moments to come to me, as I try make sense of what had happened last night.

I remember dancing, I think? Is that it? The rest seems distant and unreachable.

I get up and get ready hastily. It's still another day at work today, whether I went to Alpha Asher's party again last night. It wasn't until I walked into the kitchen, did I realise that maybe today wouldn't be as typical as I'm used to. Because on the bench, as I small, black safe sitting close to the sink.

I stare at it before I approach it.

It's partly open, not secured in the slightest. I have to take a moment before I open it. Is this a trick? I don't remember ever needing a safe, so it's presence makes me want to call for the police. At the same time, my curiosity is almost too much to handle, so I inch forward, nervously pulling the lid back to reveal what's inside.

Money. A whole lot of it that falls out at my feet, all in $100 dollar bills.

I gape it, before a small piece of paper caught my eyes. Without hesitation, I grabbed it, unfolding it.

Quit your job.

~A