Too Beautiful for the Alpha

Chapter 16

November 30th, 1991

I cannot leave my bedroom. I cannot face him. I have lost my baby. My baby has slipped between my

fingers, leaving me forever, never to come back. I feel empty. James feels empty. He has tried

speaking with me, but I have nothing to say. There is nothing I want to say anymore. The doctor says

that many women have miscarriages and it should not stop me from trying again, but there is a cloud of

discouragement over my head. It floats there, never to go away. I want my baby. Goddess, please. I

need my baby.

December 1st, 1991

I feel sad today. I feel sad every day. I want my baby back. Please, please, Goddess give me my child.

December 5th, 1991

James says we can try again when I am ready, but I know she will take my baby again. She took my

baby and I will never forgive her.

James tells me that I need time to heal. I love him. It is soon but I know I love him. He has hurt me, but

I love him. Is that why she took my baby? Because I am a weak woman in her eyes?

I close the diary and regret having opened it in the first place. I get up from my bed and set the diary

back on my desk, not wanting to think about Julianna's pain. I wish I could travel back and tell her that

she doesn't have to be discouraged because one day she would have a son, one day she would have

a child.

Since I have been home, bored and lonely, my daydreams have grown from wishful thoughts to

intricate, imaginary parts of my life. Some of them are with James, and some of them are not. Those

are the frightening ones, the ones where I am wrinkled and alone, sitting in this house day by day,

never leaving, never dying, just existing with no purpose. No mother, no mate, no child to care for.

Nothing. And I think about this often which causes me to scold myself for not making any friends. I

should have sat with those people at the table or chatted with that possible Stacey more, but no.

My mother has been telling me about a boy she thinks I should meet. I told her off, angry, upset,

flaming up to my room only to lock myself in and hide. The idea of meeting a boy makes me physically

sick.

The boy's name is Noah and he is my age. He is my mother's friend's son and my mother will not stop

mentioning him. I told her that I have no interest in meeting anyone, but she is persistent. She has

invited her friend and the boy over for dinner tonight, and I swore that I wouldn't come down from my

room like a stubborn child. I swore that I will never meet this boy if it is the last thing I do.

What am I scared of?

Losing my one chance, I suppose. Losing James, my one and only mate. The person who was never

supposed to exist, the person who shunned me, who showed a hint of love then pushed me away for

my own benefit. Would he think me weak if I told him that after everything he has done, I didn't want to

leave? I wanted to stay and work through this, fix the mistakes made, give forgiveness and move on if

he was willing? Does that make me weak? Did forgiving James make Julianna weak?

I don't think she is weak, I think she is strong sometimes but broken on the inside. Is that me? Am I

labeling myself as strong only to mask that I am destroyed by everything that has happened? I don't

know. I can't tell if I am broken or not.

A brief warning knock comes to my door before my mother opens it and peeks inside. "They'll be here

any minute. Can you get dressed?"

I lay on my bed and peer up at her. "I already told you that—"

"Rae, please. Stop acting like this. It's been weeks, it's time to move on now."

My eyes harden as that familiar feeling of betrayal fumes up. I sit up swiftly. "Time to move on? Time to

move on? He is my mate!"

"He was your mate," she interrupts, "not anymore."

I have a need to break things, to slam the door in her face and throw everything in this obnoxious room

out the window. I need to scream and stomp my feet and cry about how he is still my mate, he's my

mate, he didn't reject me, he is still mine! "Get out. Just because you got over Dad's death so quickly

doesn't mean I'm as cold-hearted as you."

I can see the sudden hurt and anger in her eyes before she turns her back on me and returns

downstairs. I hear the doorbell ring and I can't help but swing the door shut, not wanting to hear a word

from any of them. I have to calm down, I have to cool.

Without a thought, I rush out the door and down the steps, past my mother and through the front door,

forcing the mother and son to part. My mother voice calls after me, but I continue to run off towards the

trees. Once I am covered and alone, I take a deep breath and look around for an extra presence.

Taking my clothes off, I set them at the base of the nearest tree and shift.

The process hurts a bit due to the fact that it's been awhile, but when the missed feeling of my fur

against the breeze and my paws in the dirt return to me, I feel free. Without wasting another second,

I'm off into the forest to blow off some steam.

I haven't been on a run like this in a long time. My father and I used to go on runs together when I was

young. He would take me off of pack territory to go down to the lake just a mile away, and there we

would swim and I would tell him things that I could never tell my mother. I didn't whine about how I'll

never have a Mate, but I told him that I was unsure about my future, where I would end up. He told me

not to worry about it now because things end up how they are supposed to end up. All I can do is hang

on until the end, and enjoy the journey to it.

Maybe I have been overdramatic. Maybe all I need is to do my best and see where I'll end up. I just

have to follow my heart, follow what I want, and things should be the way they were meant to be.

I don't want to be alone, old, and trapped in that house for the rest of my life, and I will do what I want

to make sure it doesn't happen. Even if I fail, I will know that I tried.

After a few more minutes, I return to my clothes and shift back, slipping them on and heading towards

the house.

When I tiredly walk through the front door—left unlocked for me—I hear their voices coming from the

dining room. My mother must have heard the door open and close because I hear her call, "Rae,

please come here."

I take a deep breath before going to her. "Yes?" I ask while appearing in front of them, scanning over

the strangers at the table. Their eyes turn to me and I try to not disappear.

"This is Esther and her son, Noah," she smiles at me with a hidden frustration behind it that only I can

see.

I nod and look at them. Esther is around my mother's age, maybe a tad younger, and beside her is

Noah. He is a handsome guy and he smiles at me. Like his mother, he has light brown hair and dark

brown eyes, his skin more tan than pale. Even though he is sitting, it is clear that he is tall. He's just like

the others, the people I grew up with who all seemed to be perfect. He is one of the boys at the Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

gathering who I see dancing with many girls who aren't his mate. I don't smile back and I can't help but

think about James.

"Hello," I say blandly, not trying to sound rude.

Esther smiles. "It's nice to finally meet you. You're mother's told us about your trip to see a friend at

another pack and we've been waiting to finally put a face to the name."

My heart caves in. "Oh, yes. I stayed a little longer than I expected to, but it's good to be home." My

mother looks at me with satisfaction. "I should get cleaned up." My clothes were dirtied by the forest

floor.

"Alright," my mother says, "come back down when you're done."

I nod again and head for the stairs, but before I make it on the first step an unfamiliar voice grabs me.

"Hey, I uh, thought I should introduce myself."

I look back to see the guy, Noah. I stay quiet.

"I know it's weird that our moms are trying to set us up, but I would like to get to know you if that's

alright."

I swallow and cross my arms. "I have a Mate."

He looks somewhat surprised, but I can't tell if he's faking it or not. "Oh, I'm sorry. Your mother said it

didn't work out between you two so—"

"She said that?" I drop character but quickly pick it back up. "Well, I don't know why she would say

that."

Noah nods his head awkwardly. "I'm sorry for assuming—"

"No." Now I feel guilty. "You don't have to be. It's not your fault." He smiles half-heartedly and shifts

back towards the dining room, but I say, "I wouldn't mind making a friend, though. I mean, ever since I

got back I've had no one to hang out with."

Noah nods. "Yeah. That would be cool."

I motion to the stairs and he lets me go. Never would I have seen myself asking to be someone's

friend, to have someone to hang out with. It is terribly unlike me, but my boxed-up-hidden-away attitude

cannot be good for me. Making a friend for once can't hurt, right? I'm not sure what we would do

together or talk about, but he seemed keen on the idea of it. I hope he was not just being nice about it, I

hope he took me seriously and not seeing it as an offer out of pity.

I get an uneasy feeling as I walk towards my bedroom, my brief moment of accomplishment fading

away as something tickles my nose. Hesitantly, I open the door to see a figure inside. My heart jolts

forward.

The stranger turns around, making my lungs gasp for air.

"James?"