Alpha's Love

by Jasmine Wylder

  Foster followed behind him. “So, what are you going to do? Just leave her in the human world and pretend none of this ever happened?”

  “What other choice do we have?”

  “We could tell her and let her make the decision for herself,” Foster suggested, grasping at straws. He knew Lloyd was right. The best thing to do in this situation was to let her return to her life, but he had grown too attached. He didn’t know if he would be able to let her go so easily. “There has to be something –”

  “No. We bring her back.” Lloyd’s statement was final. Foster glanced at him, but his face was resolute – set in stone.

  “Fine.” Foster relented. “We bring her back and pretend our little wager never existed.”

  “It’s not about that anymore…” Lloyd shook his head. “I don’t know if it was ever about the bet once Emily stepped into the picture.” Foster was surprised by the way Lloyd was conducting himself. Usually, he was so blunt, but now, he sounded wise beyond his years. It was like holding Emily had turned him into the responsible king he was always meant to be.

  ***

  The dragons flew back to the human world in silence. Lloyd held onto Emily the whole time, cradling her gently in his paw, making sure not to hurt her. With the nightclub doors still open, they slipped inside. Foster went ahead, making sure there were no whelps lingering around. Everything seemed normal.

  Upstairs, the door to Emily’s apartment rested against the bent door frame. Inside, everything else was untouched. “Looks like the whelps haven’t come back.”

  “I don’t expect them to,” Foster responded. “After what they did, they’ll be hiding in their burrows for quite some time.”

  Lloyd nodded, satisfied. With Emily still unconscious in his arms, he stepped forward. “Do you mind tidying up her bed? Maybe some new sheets.”

  Foster nodded, yanking off the scorched linens. He held them tight in his hand, burning them to ash in his palm. Opening the window, he threw them away. Slowly, he turned before searching the room for replacement bedding. He found some in the bottom drawer of her dresser. Awkwardly, he made her bed.

  “Can’t you hurry it up?” Lloyd asked, sounding annoyed, his foot tapping against the ground.

  “Hey. This isn’t as easy as the maids make it look.”

  “How hard can it really be?” Lloyd watched as Foster pushed one corner of the fitted sheet onto the mattress, only to have another corner pop back out.

  “Ugh. I have no idea how people do this on their own. It’s impossible.” Foster grumbled.

  “You’re useless.” Lloyd shook his head and stepped forward, holding down a corner so it wouldn’t pop off while Foster struggled to fit the rest over the mattress.

  When he was finally done, Foster stood up, wiping the sweat from his brow. “I have to give the humans credit for doing this every day.”

  Lloyd just rolled his eyes before he gently placed Emily down on the bed, throwing the blankets over her. He tucked her in and stepped back, staring at her face for what felt like the last time.

  “I don’t want to say goodbye…” Foster whispered, standing near his step-brother. “Are you sure we can’t just bring her back. People would learn to accept her with time.”

  “No.” Lloyd’s voice was firm. “We have to do this. It’s for the best.”

  “What if she misses us?” Foster suggested, trying to persuade his step-brother to change his mind.

  “You know the venom will erase her memory. It’s the only way for her to live her life.” Lloyd straightened his posture. “We should go. She’ll be waking up soon.”

  Hesitantly, Foster nodded. He stepped forward, gently kissing her temple. Lloyd approached second, kissing her lips ever so gently before he squeezed her hand. “I won’t forget you, Emily.” His words lingered in the air, even as the two dragons left the apartment.

  Before stepping out, Lloyd stopped and fixed the doorframe, gently setting it back in place before he closed the door with a resounding thud.

  “Well… that’s it, isn’t it? We won’t ever see her again?” Foster asked. They were outside now, putting the nightclub door back into place. With their hot breaths, they softened the metal and successfully fixed the broken hinges.

  “Yes. She’s free to live her life now...”

  “…without us.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Emily woke up, feeling like something was missing. She sat up and rubbed her head. She had a splitting headache. Her eyes watered and her cheeks were wet as if she had spent the whole night crying. “What happened…?” She whispered to herself.

  She blinked in the darkness of her room. Under her fingers, the sheets felt silky and smooth. She couldn’t remember changing her bedding. Hadn’t she changed them to cotton just a few days ago?

  Feeling drowsy, she got up, wobbling on her feet. She looked around, expecting a mess, but everything in her room was in pristine condition. There didn’t even seem to be a speck of dust in the air like someone had just cleaned the room. Emily stared at the lamp on her nightstand, feeling like she had knocked it over during the night. She half-expected to step on shards of glass, but all she felt was the softness of her carpet.

  Still disoriented, Emily shuffled into her bathroom. She gasped when she saw her own reflection. Her hair was a total mess. Strands stuck up here and there. Certain curls were flat and limp as if she had been sleeping for days. Part of her bangs stuck to her forehead like glue. “What the fuck happened to me last night…?” Emily wondered if she had drunk herself to a blackout or something, but she couldn’t remember even picking up a glass.

  Frowning, she turned on the tap and splashed her face with water. She shivered as the cold water ran down her neck and over her chest. Standing up, she tried to straighten her hair, but it was impossible without taking a shower. So, she ignored it for the time being and grabbed a towel, patting her face dry.

  With her body feeling heavy and sluggish, she contemplated going back to bed, but she convinced herself out of it. She had to figure out what was going on. Looking down, she realized she had fallen asleep in her dress. She tried to press out some of the wrinkles, but just like her hair, it was an exercise in futility.

  Shaking her head, she left her apartment and was immediately bombarded with the sounds of the nightclub in full swing. Had she really slept through the whole day? It was so unlike her to do that. She crept forward, holding onto the railing and looked down. The young crowd swayed and grinded together in their usual fashion as the loners hugged the bar, drink in hand.

  The bartender was idly wiping the counter. He looked rather bored with himself as he waited for someone to make an order. Emily cocked her head to the side in confusion. Were things usually this slow at the bar? Emily couldn’t help but feel that something was off. Way off. Just a few days ago, Emily could have sworn profits were off the charts.

  Quickly, she moved back into her apartment, making a B-line for her office. Inside, papers and boxers covered the small room, just as they usually did. She sunk into her chair and picked up the first document she saw. It was a letter from the mortgage company, thanking her for her payment. “When did I pay this?” She asked herself. She picked up a pencil and twirled it in her fingers as she rummaged through the rest of the paperwork. Somehow, all her bills were paid in full, but the profitability of the nightclub hadn’t changed. Something wasn’t right and Emily was determined to get to the bottom of it.

  ***

  For the next few weeks, Emily spent most of her time in her office, trying to discover where all the mystery money had come from. She couldn’t find any note that her loans had been forgiven or that her mortgage had been refinanced. Instead, it just seemed like someone had swooped in and paid everything off. But who could have done such a thing? It wasn’t like Emily had any close friends that would have given her a personal loan. It just didn’t make any sense.

  Had she gone into business with someone? But that didn’t make sense either. There were no
documents with any signatures other than her own. Emily just stopped and looked around her office, half-expecting ghosts to appear. Of course, they never did.

  A few days later, Emily was finally sorting the last of the documents on her desk. After plenty of time spent drowning under papers, she was only now seeing the dark cherry wood of her desk. With the space cleared, she spotted her calendar. It was still of the previous year. She hadn’t touched it in ages. Slowly, she ran her fingers over it, listening to the crackle of the aged pages. As she did so, she thought she felt something underneath, but when she looked, there was nothing there. Emily frowned. A part of her had hoped that maybe the missing document that would put all of this into perspective was hiding under her calendar, but unfortunately, it wasn’t.

  She was just about to get up and call it a night when suddenly, the fire alarm went off. The blaring sound pierced through Emily’s skull. She quickly pressed her hands to her ears as the alarm seemed to shriek louder and louder, threatening to burst her eardrums. Before she could reach the doors, the sprinkler system went off, dosing her in cold water. She gasped, jumping in place.

  Her high-heel cracked and her ankle bent unnaturally. Emily crumbled to the ground, a radiating pain emerging from her ankle. With the sprinklers still spritzing water over her, Emily had to force her now drenched hair out of her face. She could feel her heartbeat hammering in her chest, going faster and faster as adrenaline rushed through her body. Her mind was already swirling with a million questions. What was going on? Was The Den on fire? Had everyone already evacuated the building? What would happen if her ankle was broken and she couldn’t get out by herself?

  Trying to remain calm, she reached over and touched her ankle. She winced immediately, feeling a warmth seep from her skin. Emily ground her teeth before she slowly got up, tottering on one leg. Before she could hurt herself again, she tossed off her shoes. Barefoot, her toes sunk into the soggy carpet. She tried to walk on her ankle, but it was simply too painful. With no other choice, she hopped over to the door, knowing she had to leave the building as quickly as possible.

  She tried the doorknob, but it was jammed. She tried it again, but it still wouldn’t budge. “What the hell…?” She put a little strength into it, forcing her shoulder against the door, but it was hopeless. In the small, opulent window of the door, she spotted a shadow, like someone was standing right outside.

  “Hey! Get me out of here! The door is stuck!” She banged against the door as hard as she could, straining her vision through the translucent glass, trying to figure out who it was. In her desperation to get out of her office, she didn’t even care that someone had broken into her apartment. “Goddamnit! Do you hear me? I’m stuck!” She screamed, pounding harder and harder.

  The shadow disappeared and Emily felt incredibly alone. She was breathing hard, feeling like the air in the office was growing stale. Her fingers tightened around the knob and she threw all her weight against the door, determined to break it down. In her rush of adrenaline, she completely forgot about her ankle.

  When the smell of smoke finally reached her, she was becoming hysterical. “Please! Someone! Help me!” She cried out, tears streaming down her face in fear. What if she never got out of her office? Would she burn to the crisp along with her beloved nightclub? Terror ripped through her heart, freezing it solid. Emily had to get out of there.

  She stepped back until her back pressed against the desk. Her eyes narrowed, focusing on the door. Her fingers jittered and her teeth ground together. Her temples pounded. With a huff of air, she ran forward, ramming right into the door. It groaned and cracked, but held firm. Emily ricocheted off and landed on her ass onto the carpet. The sprinklers had stopped by now, but everything was waterlogged and bloated. Her clothes had soaked through to her skin long ago. “I have to get out of here…” She whispered to herself, her throat closing with fear. She felt lightheaded and dizzy, but despite it all, she got up and prepared herself to try again.

  ***

  Outside, patrons and staff huddled together, staring at the inferno that raged through their favorite nightclub. People kept whispering to one another, huddled in tight groups.

  What could have caused this?

  Do you think it was arson? I saw a bunch of shady-looking guys in the back, near the couches. I wouldn’t put it past them. They were smoking too. One cigarette butt is all it would take.

  We should probably go before this place blows up or something.

  It’s not going to blow up. That only happens in movies.

  You don’t know that and I’d rather not take any chances.

  Some of the crowd made their way to the parking lot while others stayed to watch the destruction. A while ago, someone had called the fire department, but they had yet to arrive.

  Suddenly, a tall, lithe man with messy brown hair weaved through the crowd. “What’s going on here?” He asked before one of the windows shattered and a flame emerged. His eyes grew wide and he quickly looked around for Emily. “Has anyone see the owner?” Foster kept asking the people that had gathered, but no one seemed to know.

  Without thinking, he rushed inside. People gasped, trying to stop him, but he was too fast. His gut feeling told him she was still trapped somewhere inside. “Emily!” He called out, holding his mouth against the fabric of his shirt, trying not to breathe in the dark smoke that now surrounded the ground level of The Den. The fire was intense, burning through floorboards and support beams. Nearby, a part of the ceiling collapsed. Foster was thankful for his elevated body temperature. Without it, this place would feel like a volcano.

  Foster was about to climb up the stairs when he noticed they were barricaded. Burning pieces of furniture had been placed there to prevent anyone from using the stairs. Foster’s fists tightened. This could only be foul play. For a second, he uncovered his face and sniffed the air. The smell of smoke was overwhelming, but underneath it all was the stench of whelps. But not just any whelps – the same whelps that had kidnapped Emily. They had come back for revenge.

  Quickly, Foster’s wings emerged and he shot into the second floor through the balcony. The floor was hot under his feet, but it was still intact. Down the hall, one of the windows suddenly shattered and Lloyd came barreling in.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “The same thing you are,” Lloyd responded as he jogged forward, crashing through Emily’s door. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you snooping around this place, keeping an eye on her. I was doing the same thing… we were fools to think she would be safe without us… to think we could live without her.”

  “Well, the whelps are behind this. With the leader dead, I wonder who ordered this.” Foster thought aloud.

  “You think I don’t know that. I’ve already informed the council. Whoever this whelp is he’ll be banished to the Void. He doesn’t have a chance of escaping. My only regret is that I won’t be able to punish him myself.” Lloyd growled before he rushed toward Emily’s apartment. Inside, the fire was at its strongest. The flames had consumed most of her living room and part of the ceiling had caved in, blocking the way to the office. “Emily!” Lloyd called out, hoping for a response.

  There was a soft, weak bang coming from the office. Without thinking, Lloyd shot forward through the flames. His skin was licked by the fire and he could feel the white hot pain all over his body, but he didn’t care. He turned the knob, but it was jammed. “Emily…?” He screamed, pressing his face against the door.

  “Yes! Yes! It’s me. Please get me out of here…” Emily’s voice sounded distant and breathless. She rapped against the door, desperate to be freed. She had been sweating profusely for the last ten minutes. Her body ached all over and her head felt numb and heavy. Her lungs burned with the smell of smoke.

  “Don’t worry… we’re going to get you out of here. I promise. Just step away from the door, I’m going to break it down, okay?”

  Quickly, Emily shuffled away. “Okay.” She told the man, her heart ra
cing. She was just praying these were the firemen that would rescue her.

  Lloyd stepped back, but even as he put all his weight into ramming the door, it didn’t budge. “Let me help.” Foster was quickly by his side. The ends of his vest had burned off from when he had run through the fire. Pieces of his hair were singed. There was soot all over his face. “We have to do this together… aim for the center of the door, right below the window.”

  “Can’t I just smash the window?”

  “Technically yes, but it’s very thick. We have a better chance of breaking the door down.” Foster said quickly, his words expressing the urgency of their current situation. “Just trust me for once in your life.”

  Lloyd nodded. “Alright. We do it your way.” They stepped back, getting as close to the fire as possible to give themselves enough room to charge forward. Suddenly, sprinting side by side, they rammed into the door, their shoulders crashing into it at the same exact time. There was a loud crackle of wood. Splinters dug into their arms as they toppled over and landed on the wet carpet of Emily’s office.

  Foster was the first one to get up. He rushed forward, taking Emily into his arms. “You’re going to be okay. We got you now.” He whispered. “Quick, we have to find a window. We can’t get through the fire downstairs, she’ll never survive.”

  Lloyd nodded and led the way into the bedroom. The bed had already been burnt to a crisp and was now smoldering in the corner, but the curtains were still ablaze. Lloyd yanked them down, the fire wrapping around his hand, but he felt no pain. He tossed them to the side before he rammed his fist through the window, shattering it with ease. He cleared away all the glass and jumped through.

  Emily’s eyes grew huge. “This room is twenty feet off the ground!” She shouted, thinking the man had hurt himself by jumping out her window.

  “He’s fine,” Foster whispered, approaching the window. “You good to catch her?” Foster asked, peeking his head out.

  “Yes.”

  “Catch me?” Emily gasped. “You’re not going to throw me down there, are you?” Suddenly, she clung on tightly to his neck, refusing to let go.