Alpha Nox by Jane Doe

Chapter 6

As I slipped into the darkness that was unconsciousness, the bed melted from beneath my body and

gave way to a cool breeze that ruffled my sweatshirt and pants.

My feet met something solid, but it wasn’t the ground. No, it was a rooftop. More specifically, the

rooftop of the hotel.

Past the ledge, which stood at about two feet high, I could make out the entire town of Primrose. Every

road and building were lit up, creating a map I’d studied throughout the years of my life, plotted by my

own two feet.

I inched closer, taking in the vast expanse of land and the houses scattered along its surface. In the

dark, they appeared to rise up out of the ground. The mountains in Alaska were beautiful, but this was

art. Art that invoked both positive and negative feelings, a blanket of serenity to cover up the blood and

chaos.

It drew me in, pulling me into it’s orbit until the ledge grazed my thighs.

The hotel was easily ten stories high, plenty enough to kill a Werewolf if they fell. Luckily, this was

nothing more than a dream.

I didn’t have to hear Nox’s voice to know that this dream was a product of his abilities. Well, one of

them, at least. It was a unique kind of magic, one not often seen by our kind. Dream Walking—or

Dream Weaving, depending on where you came from, was incredibly rare and often sought after.

Only a person familiar with its touch would know when a Dream Walker had slipped into their mind.

Nox’s magic had a way of changing things, altering the dream and its colors, turning it into something

almost otherworldly. The sky was no longer streaked with darkness but tinted with a deep purple hue.

Even the clouds followed suit, melting into powdery shades of lilac and pink. The glow of the lights in

the distance became warmer, no longer a pale yellow, but a warm and almost tangible gold.

I didn’t bother to look over my shoulder where Nox stood several feet away.

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

Taking one last look at Primrose, I slowly turned around to face Nox. If I hadn’t perfected my self-

control over the years, the first thing I would’ve looked at was the hard expanse of his bare chest and

the dark swirls of ink that covered it. I didn’t bother thinking about his lower half or the silk pajama pants

that hung low on his hips. I kept my eyes latched onto his face, not letting them stray in the slightest.

Propping a hand on my hip, I smirked. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this little visit?”

As a young teen, Nox had popped into my dreams hundreds of times. It was how he perfected his

ability, after all. Even though we’d spend all day together, it was never enough for either of us. The

moment my head hit the pillow; Nox would slip into my dreams.

Of course, that stopped once I was sentenced to the Lycan’s camp.

No more nightly visits. No more Nox.

“We thought you were dead.”

He folded his arms, which were also covered in slashes of dark ink, over his chest. His voice was

husky, still cloudy with sleep. It was colder than the breeze that caressed my arms.

Huh. Who knew? Certainly didn’t expect that one.

I tilted my head, hiding surprise behind a wall of granite.

“Who is we?” I asked.

“Me, my father…your father.” He replied slowly, his words quickly trailing off.

I was no fool, despite what Nox might think. The way he stared at me was nothing short of analytical.

He was gauging my reaction, trying to dig into my mind to pick up on any shred of emotion he could

find.

Two could play at that game.

“Now why would you guys think that?”

Nox’s eyes narrowed slightly, his iris’s taking on a faint glow as he worked his magic.

“Executive Director Phineas Striker told my father you had died.” He explained.

That wasn’t the least bit surprising considering Phineas Striker was Satan incarnate.

There wasn’t a hint of emotion in his voice or within his eyes, but I knew he felt something. With how

close we had been, always teetering on the verge of something more, my death would’ve affected him

whether he liked it or not.

“When exactly did he relay the news?” I asked purely out of curiosity.

Everything Phineas Striker did was for a reason.

“Three and a half years ago.”

Ah, now it all made sense.

Six months into my sentence, I’d made the grave mistake of pissing off dear old Phineas. He had

whipped me within an inch of my life, and once he was finished, had left the camp without looking back.

I had no doubt in my mind that he knew I’d survived, but as a precaution had told my old pack about my

demise.

It didn’t matter, anyway. When someone dies in the Lycan camps, their body is thrown into the forest for

the animals. There is no going home, even in death.

I spread my arms wide, putting on a dazzling smile to match it.

“As you can see, I am very much alive.”

Nox wasn’t at all amused, which was concerning considering he had an amazing sense of humor as a

child. Losing his personality must’ve been the consequence he paid for betraying his closest friend.

Tension thickened the air between us, and I breathed in every syrupy drop with glee.

“You need to reject me, Lilac.” Nox said out of the blue.

Since when had he become so predictable?

I feigned surprise and just a smidgen of offense, raising my eyebrows as though I couldn’t believe the

words I was hearing. Really, I’d seen them coming from a mile away. Initially, I’d contemplated letting a

gasp or two slip through, but I felt that was a bit too much.

“Now, why would I do that when this is everything I’ve ever wanted?” I asked innocently, placing a hand

on my chest, right above my beating heart.

A wave of irritation crashed behind Nox’s glowing eyes. He took a step forward, uncrossing his arms to

run a hand through his hair. I didn’t have to look to know it was messy, now sticking up in tufts on his

head. He always woke with the craziest bedhead in the morning.

“You can’t be Luna of this pack, you know that. They’ll never accept a murderer as their leader.”

There was a harshness to his voice that he’d never used on me before. The Lilac of the past would’ve

flinched hearing that icy coldness, but not I.

I shrugged indifferently, even though the rage I felt that day was still very much alive and thriving.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Nox. They won’t have a choice. We both know the law prohibits you from

rejecting me, which is exactly why you’re trying to force me into doing it for you. News flash, I won’t.

You’re not getting out of this.”

Satisfaction rushed in my veins, so potent my toes curled. My smile conveyed everything words

couldn’t, every dark and depraved thought that had kept me up late into the night.

“You’re going to accept your fate the same way I accepted mine.” I purred.

His anger was sweet on my tongue, better than the most expensive, luxurious chocolate. It melted

along my taste buds and warmed my cold heart from the inside out.

With his long legs and broad shoulders, Nox stepped forward.

“I can always make you, Lilac. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that?” He said darkly.

Again, past Lilac would’ve been horrified, betrayed even, to hear Nox saying those words—threatening

to use his other ability on us.

Nox was a wolf with one of the highest pedigree’s our kind has ever seen. That’s typically what

happened when two mates reproduced. Any child they had would inherit a combination of each

parent’s abilities, which is exactly what happened with Nox.

While his mother, the late Luna, had the ability to Dream Walk, Nox’s father had something even more

powerful. To our kind, the ability is known as Persuasion.

It’s unofficial name: Mind Control.

Nox and his father could make anyone do anything, and all it took was a split second of eye contact.

Teen Nox would’ve never used Persuasion on anyone, but clearly I wasn’t the only one that had

changed.

It was obvious Nox expected me to show some sort of fear, or at the very least, hesitation. The proof

was written across his plump lips, which parted in surprise when I began to giggle. It was adorable in a

naïve, stupid sort of way. How his sculpted eyebrows furrowed, creating that little crease on his

forehead that I knew so well.

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten.”

I shook my head slowly, using his momentary lapse to my advantage. The ledge of the roof was short

enough for me to step onto without looking back. An eruption of butterflies swarmed in my stomach at

the feeling of open air just inches behind me, but rather than being followed by fear, it was excitement I

felt.

Hoping this moment would imprint itself in his brain, I grinned until my cheeks ached.

“I remember everything.” I said, then stepped backwards off the ledge.