The Sleepless Alpha

Adrian

The smoke is a living thing, a thick, black beast that claws at my throat and turns the air into jagged glass.

"Stay here, Adrian. Do not move. Do not make a sound."

My father’s hands are heavy on my shoulders, his fingers digging into my skin through my thin nightshirt. He’s a mountain of a man, usually unshakable, but his eyes are wide and reflecting the orange hell roaring behind him. He shoves me into the small, dark space of the hallway closet, the smell of old coats and cedar momentarily masking the scent of burning pine.

"Close your eyes," he snarls, his voice cracking. "Cover your ears. Don't open them until the sun comes up. Do you hear me?"

I nod, my teeth chattering so hard I’m worried they’ll break. He slams the door, and the world turns into a tomb. I press my palms against my ears, squeezing my eyes shut until I see spots, but it doesn't help. I can still hear it. The howling isn't like the pack calls I’m used to. It’s high, wet, and hungry. There’s shouting, the sound of wood splintering, and a scream that cuts off so abruptly it leaves a hole in the air.

I can't do it. I can't stay in the dark while my world turns to ash.

I reach out, my fingers trembling as I find the cold brass handle. I push the door open just a crack. The hallway is a tunnel of fire. The heat hits me in a hot wave singeing my eyelashes. I step out, the floorboards screaming under my bare feet. I turn toward the stairs, but a shadow moves in the flames.

It’s huge and lunges for me before I can process anything.

 I wake with a jolt that nearly sends me off the side of the mattress.

My lungs burn as I draw in a sharp, jagged breath of cold mountain air. I’m upright before I even realize I’m awake, my fingers digging into the silk sheets of my bed. The room is silent, save for the frantic drumming of my heart. I force my hands to relax, one finger at a time, until the tension leaves my knuckles.

I reach for the heavy silver clock on the nightstand. 3:14 AM.

I went down at 2:44. Thirty minutes.

I run a hand through my hair, feeling the dampness of sweat at the nape of my neck. Thirty minutes of sleep is a victory. For most, it would be a death sentence, but for the Sleepless Alpha, it is a record. I haven’t had a full night’s rest since the night the world burned down around me. Decades of staring at the moon have turned my eyes into something hard and unyielding. I catch my reflection in the dark glass of the window. My jaw is set, my skin pale against the dark stubble beginning to itch on my face.

A soft, hesitant knock sounds at the door. I can smell the fear before the wood even vibrates. It’s Elias, one of the newer attendants. He smells like cheap soap and terrified rabbit.

"Enter," I say.

The door creaks open. Elias keeps his head down, his gaze fixed firmly on the polished floorboards. His hands are trembling so violently that the hangers in his grip rattle like wind chimes. He lays my suit out on the valet stand, his movements jerky and uncoordinated.

"The car is being prepped, Alpha," he whispers. "And the coffee is in the study."

"Tell the kitchen I want the roast from last night. Cold. And tell the guards to stay back. I’m not in the mood for a parade today."

Elias nods so fast I think his neck might snap. He backs out of the room, still refusing to look at me. I don’t blame him. I know what I look like. I’m a tall man, broader than most, with scars that tell stories I’d rather forget. My presence is a weight in the room that most people find hard to carry.

I dress slowly. It’s a ritual. The crisp white shirt, the silk tie, the heavy charcoal jacket that fits perfectly across my shoulders. Every button is a layer of armor. By the time I’m done, I don't look like a man who just spent thirty minutes dreaming of his own death. I look like the Alpha everyone expects me to be.

I make my way to my home office. The manor is silent, the halls long and filled with the shadows of ancestors who probably wouldn't approve of my methods. I push open the heavy oak doors to my study and find Drew already standing by the table.

Drew is my Beta and the only person in this pack who doesn't look like he’s about to faint when I speak. He’s built like an oak tree, with a thick neck and a messy mane of dark hair that he refuses to tame. He turns as I enter, a tablet in his hand and a skeptical line between his eyebrows.

"You’re actually doing it," Drew says. He doesn't use a title. He knows better. "You’re going to Luke’s circus."

"I told you I would." I walk to the desk and pick up the cup of coffee waiting for me. It’s black, bitter, and hot enough to scald. I welcome the sting.

"It’s a mockery, Adrian. Luke only sent that invitation so he could rub your nose in it. He’s marrying a human. A human. He wants to show the world he’s so powerful he can afford to take a weak mate and still keep his borders. It’s a vanity project."

I take a sip of the coffee, letting the caffeine hit my system. "You know why I'm going, Drew. It isn't about Luke’s ego."

Drew steps away from the window, his boots thudding on the rug. He looks at me, his eyes searching mine for any sign of hesitation. "What if our source is wrong? What if the information was a fluke? We’ve spent two years and a small fortune chasing this lead. If we show up at this wedding and there’s nothing there, we look like idiots. Or worse, we look desperate."

I set the cup down on the surface of my desk. I don't like the word fluke. I don't believe in coincidences. "With the amount of time and resources we’ve spent, it’s worth confirming. If there’s even a grain of truth to the rumor, I want to be the first one to see it. Luke is a loudmouthed idiot, but even he wouldn't marry a human without a reason. There’s something about this girl. Something he thinks he can use."

Drew sighs, a heavy sound that tells me he’s losing the argument. "Fine. I’ll get the heavy hitters ready. We’ll take three SUVs and a full tactical team."

"No." I hold up a hand. "No need. Luke is not that much of a threat. He talks a big game, but he’s a nobody who inherited a throne he doesn't know how to keep. If I show up with a small army, he’ll think I’m scared. I’m going with you and a driver. That’s it."

Drew rubs the back of his neck, his gaze dropping to the shadows under my eyes. "How much sleep did you get? Really?"

"Thirty minutes."

"Adrian, you're going to crash. Let me get the pack witch. She can whip up those sleeping pills again. Just enough to get you through the weekend."

"The pills are no longer working," I say, my voice flat. "My body has decided it doesn't want peace. I just have to get used to being the sleepless alpha. It gives me more time to think anyway."

Drew looks like he wants to say more, but he knows the wall is up. He nods once and heads for the door. "We leave in twenty minutes. Don't forget your social face. I hear Luke’s bride is a crier."