5.5 - Reality Sucks

Sativa
I followed the bouncy child as she walked around the beautiful place. We passed several doors till she came to stop at one. It was a door at the end of a slight hallway, large and professional. I looked at it, a thought entering my head as I read the plate-card, it read, 'Alpha Ivanovich'.

"Amiya," I warned, turning back to her. "I said the training ground, not the Alpha's office," I hiss underneath my breath.

"Well, you did say training grounds." She nodded. "But, Daddy will help you with any further questions."

"Thanks," I mutter, crossing my hands over my chest of the girl runs off.

Wait, Daddy? I shouldn't be surprised - he has a wife. Even still, I couldn't help the slight pang that went through my chest at the thought of him being with another woman but myself.

I back away from the door, determined to find the way to the training ground without the help of a narcissistic, egotistical Alpha such as Ivanovich.

I mentally curse as the door suddenly swings open, and standing there, in all his glory, Alpha Ivanovich. I almost choke on my saliva as I notice his state of dress. Or, maybe undress. The man had on dangerously low-hanging, black sweatpants. My Lord, they were sinful as a light trail of hair disappeared into the band of his is track-pants. His chest was bare, and a cigarette hung from his lips. His hair was combed back, his long lashes fanning his cheeks, his jaw clenching.

"If you are quite done, Sativa." His amused tone rang out, pulling me from the thoughts I held of him.

I said nothing, but felt a slight shiver as his eyes roamed the length of my body. His jaw clenches and unclenches. From the corner of my eye, I see him bite his lip before his eyes come to rest on my flushed face.

I wanted to yell at him. Tell him that he shouldn't be married. I wanted to feel guilty that another woman's husband was on my mind.

Constantly.

But something in my head told me that I was on his too.

I narrow my eyes at him, but he stares me down, "I came to ask for directions to the training grounds," I spit, averting my eyes from his.

"Ah, ah," he sang, drawing his cigarette and puffing it in my face. "Miss Carter, that is no way to request a duty from a man like myself, I would need a proper and polite request."

I want to strangle this man.

"There is something obviously wrong with you."

His eyes darken for a moment, then he takes a step closer to me. "What the fuck have I told you about respect?" He snarled, shaking the ashes off his fag, he turns his head slightly, then turns to me.

I scoff.

"Ask nicely." His Russian accent, I've noticed, always thicker with his pied anger.

"Will you please show me the way to the training ground, Alpha Ivanovich?"

"No." Was his reply.

I created distance from us, "No?" I narrow my eyes.

"Yes." Again, he answered.

"Why the hell not?"

"Nicely, Carter," he warned.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes, "Why can't I go to the training grounds, Alpha?"

He chuckled, "Your new to this Pack. You cannot train with them just yet. I will need to test your ability." I nodded in mere understanding with his words. I didn't like it, but it was a procedure done in every Pack. Even mine. New members were tested of three main things; speed, agility and suppleness.

And in my previous Pack, I failed in each and every one of the categories.

I followed behind him, keeping my eyes on anything but his muscular back. And, how each vein or muscle would move in its own way as he walked. I blow the air out of my lungs as I avert my eyes from him.

"You have a daughter?" I ask, remembering Amiya.

"I don't see how that is any business of yours," his cold and clipped tone made me raise a brow. I studied him, and I was sure that Amiya was a sore subject for him.

I barely sigh as he comes to stop at another door. Its plate-card reads, 'Testing Room'. Ivanovich pushes the door open, I keep my distance as I follow him inside. It was a white room with several wires connected to different machines. A treadmill stood amongst the others, even a gurney lay on the side, pushed up against the wall.

A tall, dark-skinned man sat in one of the chairs, but looked up as Alpha Ivanovich and I walked in. I scanned him. A handsome man with hard ridges for a face, a short buzzcut of dark hair, and chocolate brown eyes. He looked to be in his early twenties. I brought my eyes back to his as he looked down at me, then at Alpha Ivanovich and at me.

"Sativa Carter," my name rolled off his tongue. It was another American accent.

"You know the drill," the Alpha told him, winking at me then walking out of the door as quickly as he had come in. Infuriating, really.

"Well, nice to meet you Miss Carter. I am Brandon Hayes, head of the Testing department in this Pack." I could only nod as he went on. "Would you like to take a seat? Not much training would be going on today."

Confused at what he meant, I sat on the gurney and faced him as he proceeded.

"This Testing pact, will be going on for the next week."

"Week?" I blurt out, flushing red as he chuckled. The Testing in my Pack never went on for more than a day. At times, half a day.

"Yes, it may be a little longer than you expect, but it's for the best. The wolves in this Pack are nothing short of brutal, I need to make sure that you are ready when they are, Miss."

"You can call me Sativa," I offer him a weak smile. He returns it with a larger one.

"So, you lived not too far from here, am I correct?" He questions far too gently.

"Yes, about four miles." I answer, swinging my legs.

"Did you train at your other Pack?" He asks, nodding. I'm not really sure why he is.

"Sometimes."

He motions his hands, I am guessing he wants a more detailed explanation.

"Um, we train once or twice a week. But, it's optional."

He frowns, "Really?"

"Yes." I confirm. "We barely even had Patrol Guards, and nobody could really defend themselves." I talk.

I didn't fully know why I was so open with him. It was his aura, so calming and trusting. I shift on the gurney, looking at his face.

"Dangerous," he noted.

"Mmhm," I agreed.

"You don't have a mate?" He queries, causing me to still in my position on the uncomfortably, idle gurney.

"No," I gulp, my throat suddenly feeling dry. I clear it and raise a palm to the soft skin around my throat.

"Sorry, sore subject?"

"Yeah," I croak. "Um, some water would be nice, sir."

"Sure," he springs from his seat and takes a cup from atop the dispenser. Filling it, he hands it to me as I thank him, letting the cool liquid slide down my sore throat.

For a while, we are silent. And I like it. But then, the questions start again. I sit there, sipping my water as I try to answer to the best of my knowledge. To my surprise, it was the truth.

And for once, it felt good not to lie. But, it was a shame all good things in life must come to an end.

-

Loupe Fiasco, California
USA - North America
The Main Pack Lodgings - The Pack Cafeteria

Sativa
I hadn't dared to return to the library with so many members of the Pack lurking around. I had made a mental decision to return at night; hopefully, his wife wouldn't be there right then.

I scoff mentally, "Wife..."

I cross my right leg over my left, using my fork to push the mash and gravy around my plate. It was loud, unbearably so. The Pack had a cafeteria, and it was mandatory to eat there. On the exception of General Pack Dinners, or when a visitor came around. It was large, hundreds of tables scattered around the place.

It ran a self-service method, so I had opted only for the mash with a minimum amount of gravy. I sat dully on the table nearest to the windows, there was the option of having your lunch outside, but the warm weather proved difficult. I could hear the whispers, all the time, every time. It was hard, and as I frowned and chewed down on my lower lip, it took everything in me not to snap their eyes away.

My stomach churns. I blink, then getting up from my position on one of the chairs, I take my plate and empty the half-finished contents in the bin. I place the plate on top of a pile of dirty dishes, walking ever so slightly I push open the doors of the cafeteria, grateful at the change of scenery, I walk up to one of the lifts and push on it.

I don't say anything as Amiya appears beside me once more, "Hello." She smiles, this girl was forming the habit of appearing out of nowhere. I didn't like it.

"Hi," I cracked a smile.

"Did you like your training?"

"Mmhm," I murmur as the lift dings and the doors open. "It may seem like an odd question, but could you show me where my room is?" I flush red, I am not certain why - gravely having something to do with the fact that I was asking a six-year-old girl for the directions to my own room.

"Sure!" That smile again.

I walk into the lift, and still dressed in my Yoga pants and shirt, I wrap my hands around myself and lean on the wall of the lift, closing my eyes. A habit I had formed since I was a little girl. I hadn't always been a fan of lifts or escalators.

"How old are you?" Her tiny voice rings out clearly.

"Nineteen." I sigh, rubbing my head. God, I was tired.

"You have finished school," she stated. I only nodded, I didn't tell her that I had to repeat a few classes. After my parents died, the private school stopped, and I was enrolled in a public school.

At first, I was angry. I'll admit - I was a little spoilt. I wouldn't listen in class, I failed my finals, so I am repeating some classes for the end of my final year.

"I'm starting school tomorrow," she giggled, the sound strange in my ears.

I smile, "That's nice."

"It is, isn't it?" She slips her hand into mine, and I almost feel compelled to flinch back and pull my hand away.

But, I don't.

"This way," I mentally memorize that she pressed F6, turned to the left twice before she skips as she leads me down the hallway. We pass exactly ten doors before she stops at one. "In here Ti, this is your room."

Ti. I can't help my narrow my eyes at the little girl. Ti, that was the nickname my mother gave to me. God, I hated it. I almost chuckled as I faintly remember the arguments surrounded by the name. "My name is Sativa," I whisper, but the little girl is already gone.

I twist the knob of the door and pull it open. Slipping into the room, I push the door shut and sigh as I examine the room. It was bright, the sun shone through the large window situated on a bare wall by the bed. I kicked off my trainers and padded to the bathroom. I need a shower.

I kick the door shut, flicking the lock for certainty. I spend a few minutes carefully scanning the bathroom. I knew that the possibility of there being a CCTV somewhere was mad.

But, so was the man that ran this Pack.

Deciding it was safe, I strip down to my birthday suit and step into the shower. I groan as the pelts of scorching water connect with my sore back. I take the shampoo and body wash that sat on the counter, sure that I had spent more than an hour in the shower, I turn it off and wrap myself in a towel. Carefully, I unlock the bathroom door.

I walk into the room, glancing at the clock, I saw that it was a little after three. I pad over to the closet and pick a pair of black sweatpants, and a Barney shirt. Slipping them atop my undergarments, I let my hair down to dry naturally. I stand in front of a mirror; the bags were still there, but they looked a lot less prominent in the light. I promised myself that I wouldn't feel the pity anymore. But, I couldn't stop the tear that slipped out of my eyes. I was pathetical.

My father had always said, "From the weakest of people come the strongest of things." I had taken the saying to heart, but right now it meant nothing more than words from my dead father. Chewing on my lip, I walk over to the window. I slide down the wall until I am on the hard floor, staring at the Pack lands beneath me.

This time, I saw nothing but forest. Forest and more forest. Lord, I wanted nothing more than to let my Wolf free. And, as I remembered her, I close my eyes at let my wall down.

For a while, we are silent. Each basking in the other's presence. I had missed her.

But, she also annoyed the hell out of me. I chuckle as a smile plays on my lips. Yes, shameful to say that my only true friend was the one that lives inside of my head.

"Truth be told, I wouldn't have it any other way," her voice rings in my head, I don't reply for a while as I drowning in her familiar tone. A strange sense of comfort; of normality, washed over me as she spoke. I smile once again.

"Me too," I agree, turning my head away from the evergreens to the sky. "Our mate is married, Vienna," I say softly, managing out as I held my neck once more. A preliminary act I carried out whenever I talked on about a sore, or sensitive subject.

"I know," she sighed, sounding dead herself. "We can't stay here for much longer - it'll hurt too much to see him with another woman, Sativa."

"I know," I smile sadly. "After we leave, we'll go to Paris, or maybe Rome."

"I've always wanted to go to Rome," I could hear the happiness seeking back into her voice. "And Paris, too."

"I know," I tell her. Again, it became the story of me trying to convince myself.

I lean my head on the wall and look back at glistening forest. Shutting my eyes, I get back up and walk over to the bed. It was quarter to five. I curl in a fetal position on the bed and cry. I cry until I had nothing left in me to cry about. My Wolf didn't try to console me, and for that, I was thankful. I blink as I let the tears fall freely, another one of my father's many sayings resonating in my memory.

"Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower; we will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind." It was from a man named William Wordsworth, ODE; a book called Imitations of Immorality from Recollections of Early Childhood. I would remember my father holding the book, while sipping his wine. Telling me about his happy childhood.

I closed my eyes and tried to forget her dead parents, the Pack, the Elders, her ongoing trial, and most of all, Romanov Ivanovich.

I lay on the somewhat comfortable bed of a Pack that I had never imagined myself in, staring at nothing. Thinking nothing, feeling nothing, just passing through time that felt as if a sense of normality had been passed over my pounding head. But I smiled, not sure why. I was almost ecstatic.

"The faster I put in my head that he wouldn't be mine, the faster I can move on," I tell myself. Bunching the sheets in my hands and sweat beaded on the side of my head. The headache was killing me, but so was the fact that my mate was gone.

And, so was my sanity.

-

Loupe Fiasco, California
USA - North America
The Main Pack Lodgings

Sativa
Six forty-nine in the evening. And someone was knocking on my door. For a while, I lay there. Opting to stay silent, in hope that the person would just dissipate.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

Slipping off from the bad, I slowly walk over to the door and slowly pull it open. I let my bleary eyes focus on the person figure. I run my hands through my hair, I cough a little as the person smiled.

Stunning, as usual.

"Hello," her voice rang.

She looked happy to see me.

"Hi." I croak, cursing mentally as my brain finally registered the woman that stood so chirpily before me.

It was Natalya.

Alpha Ivanovich's wife.

-

Luna Queen (2015)
© Victoria Leslie Khan