CHAPTER 005

This little bakery was my heaven.

Whenever I was here, I was the happiest. It was right in the middle of town, and since it was the only bakery around, the place was always packed from the minute I opened until late at night. There wasn’t a single free moment—and that’s why I loved it. It was my escape.

And today, it was an escape from him. The Alpha, who is haunting my mind even in my dreams. The incredibly inappropriate, too-real dream I had about him.

I could still feel his touch and how his lips felt on my skin. It felt so real, like he had actually been there.

I shudder and force the thoughts away, focusing on work. I bury myself in mixing the dough, making the fillings, and doing all the things to distract myself.

But suddenly, something feels off.

My heart starts pounding violently against my chest for no reason. My skin starts burning as if I am standing under the scorching sun, and my hands begin to tremble.

I stagger back, and grip the counter, desperate to get some air.

I stumble outside my kitchen, grab a brown paper bag, and start breathing into it. My vision blurs, and I feel my legs wobbling beneath me.

“What the hell is happening to me?” I ask myself, taking a deep breath inside the bag.

"Everybody, please, can I have a minute?" I cough, my voice shaky.

A few customers turn and look at me in concern.

"Ingrid, are you okay?" one of them asks, and I shake my head vigorously.

"I need everyone out, please. I shall reopen soon," I urge them, motioning towards the exit.

Once the last person is gone, I lock the door and pull down all the blinds.

Out of nowhere, my head starts to throb violently, making me drop to the floor, and I clutch my knees to my chest. The fever from earlier turns into unbearable shivers, like my body has been thrown into an ice-cold lake.

"Something is definitely wrong," I whisper the words to myself as I force my trembling legs to stand and move towards the small bathroom in my office. I flick on the light and look at myself in the mirror.

I barely recognize the woman staring back at me. Dark circles frame my eyes like I haven’t slept in days, and my skin looks paler than usual.

I squeeze my eyes shut, and I hear something. A voice. It's low and hoarse, whispering something repeatedly.

"Meet me in the forest! Now!!," it repeats, and I hear it clearly.

I gasp, my eyes flying open, and I slap myself—hard. Once, twice, and a third time, but the voice doesn’t stop.

Panic curls around my chest, squeezing me tight. It doesn’t seem real, yet my feet start moving before my mind can catch up.

I grab my car keys and a pocketknife, my body acting on instinct, and I go to my car and start driving.

The pain in my head intensifies the closer I get to the woods, forcing me to slow down.

By the time I reach the edge of the forest, I am barely breathing.

I step out of the car, the rational part of me screaming this is dangerous: turn back. You are walking straight into the unknown, but it isn’t me thinking anymore.

Something or someone is pulling me towards the danger and I am not able to fight the urge to turn back.

"Just a little further," the voice comes back again and so I obey.

I step deeper into the woods until I stumble on a branch and fall hard to the ground.

The pain in my head becomes sharper, and I can’t help but scream. My whole body starts aching, and I roll on the ground desperately, clutching my stomach as the pain spreads like wildfire.

"What is happening to me?!" I shout, my voice echoing through the trees.

I let out another scream, hoping someone will hear me, but nothing. I try to stand, but my legs give in, and I crash onto the ground again, the pain becoming worse and worse.

"What is happening?" I cry, barely hearing my voice, but this time, I get an answer.

"It looks like you are turning, Ingrid." A hoarse voice growls from behind me.

I force myself to roll over, and that’s when I see the Alpha casually sitting on a rock and watching me.

"Please help me. Please," I beg desperately, tears running down my face, but he doesn’t move.

I dig my nails into the sand and drag myself toward him until I reach his feet.

"Take me to the hospital, please!" I plead, gasping for air.

He looks down, his expression unreadable, and bites his lower lip. “No hospital will help you, Ingrid. You are turning, " he responds, his voice steady, as if he had seen this before.

"If I were you, I wouldn’t fight it," he sighs, "It will only make it worse if you do."

I lie there, barely understanding what he is saying, but the voice from earlier comes back again.

"Take a deep breath," it whispers, and I listen to it. I take three deep breaths, but then, my nail beds split open, and blood starts dripping onto the ground as something sharp pushes through. They look like claws.

I let out another louder scream, rubbing my hands against the sand, but it doesn’t help. The transformation continues.

"You need to help me, please..." I beg, my voice barely coming out.

A crack in my legs follows, and the bones snap, twisting, reshaping, sending a fresh wave of agony through my body.

"Why did you do this to me?" I cry, my voice breaking. "Please—kill me now."

I look at him, hoping to see a hint of sympathy, but his face remains blank.

"You were supposed to die when I bit you, Ingrid. This wasn’t supposed to happen." He mutters in a cold, detached voice.

"Then why am I alive? Please… finish what you started. Kill me now and take me out of this misery." I whimper, my breath coming in short, painful gasps.

My other leg snaps, and I collapse flat on the ground, my body shaking violently.

"Kill me." I plead with the last ounce of energy I have left.

The Alpha finally stands, and I hear his boots crunching against the fallen leaves as he crouches beside me. I feel his piercing gaze scanning my body, his eyes darting across my trembling frame.

I take a deep breath, prepare myself for the end, and close my eyes.

Seconds pass, then minutes, but nothing happens.  

I slowly open my eyes, and he’s still there, just staring at me.

"Kill me!" I shout, using the last bit of strength I have.

But he shakes his head. "I cannot kill one of our own, Ingrid. We have a code, " he responds.

His jaw clenches, and he bites his lower lip like he’s trying to make sense of what’s happening.

"I am not one of you," I whisper, my throat burning.

He squints, lifting my trembling hand, and examining the sharp claws that have replaced my nails.

"The bite only turns someone with the werewolf gene," he blurts, almost to himself. "If you were purely human, you’d be dead."