curse of the alpha - episode 03 & 04 by Tasha Black Page B

dangerous if they made a mistake. It took the whole rest of that spring and summer to build. They gave it a real cedar shake roof and even a glass window. It was big enough for two kids to sleep in comfortably –
    they had big plans to bring their sleeping bags out and camp for night sometime.
    By the time it was done they were used to hanging out together during all their free
    time. They began to explore the woods and creek.
    One day, they found a cave near the bank of the creek. The next day they came back
    with flashlights.
    There were tons of spiders inside, and leaves that suggested an animal had lived
    there at one time. They cleaned it out and hid in there, pretending to be spies camped out in enemy territory.
    In fourth grade, Ainsley started to be pulled out of class all the time to do testing.
    They decided she was gifted. Erik would ask her in the woods what the tests were about but when she she tried to explain it, neither one of them could see how it would tell them whether or not she was smart.
    She was mystified. But Erik and Ainsley didn’t worry about it much. They painted the
    inside of the tree fort a light green and they hid flashlights, blankets and canned tuna in the cave “just in case.”
    In fifth grade, she was put in special classes with other gifted kids. She and Erik
    taught themselves to skip stones on the sparking surface of the creek. She still liked to hang out in the woods, but she had too much homework to see him every day.
    By sixth grade, Ainsley was best friends with Grace Kwan-Cortez, who was also in the
    gifted program. She almost never came out in the woods anymore.
    And the summer after sixth grade Erik hit puberty. His parents told him about the
    wolves.
    He was shocked but sort of thrilled. What boy wouldn’t want to turn into a giant wolf?
    But they also told him about Ainsley. As the only child of the alpha, it would fall to her to draw the next alpha. Her father had commanded that the boys of the pack must stay
    away from her.
    “But we’re just friends,” he’d told his father honestly.
    “It’s a dangerous time, son,” his dad said fondly. “One minute you’re just friends, the next minute you’re not. Michael Connor knows what he’s doing.”
    There was no point arguing. And there was too much else going on anyway. Besides,
    Erik and Ainsley were growing apart. He did very well in school but it was already clear that both the school and the pack were going to put demands on Ainsley that were on a whole other level.
    By high school, he could hardly remember that they’d been so close as kids. She
    would pass him in the hall with her sweet smell and her quick step, her arms clutching a stack of books, her eyes not sparing him even a glance.
    Until now.
    C H A P T E R
    8
    Erik shook his head to clear the memories.
    Sunlight still shimmered on the surface of the creek like no time had passed. But he
    was standing here, six feet tall and sweating, all grown up. And Ainsley hadn’t set foot in this place since she was eleven years old.
    And if she had her way, she never would again.
    Something twisted in his chest, and he spun around and marched back down the path
    to his house.
    There was just time to shower and then head out to patrol her house. But he had to
    hurry if he wanted to beat the sunset.
    The hot water pounded down on his sore muscles. The sadness he’d felt by the creek
    began to fade as he looked forward to patrolling. Even when he didn’t see her, he felt close with Ainsley when he trotted through the woods near her house.
    He changed and loped off through the woods to her house impatiently. The sweet
    scent of pine filled his nose.
    He stopped short when he reached the edge of the woods. There was an extra car in
    the drive.
    A Tarker’s Mills PD car.
    Clive Warren.
    The meaning behind that car in the drive hit him like a kick in the chest.
    Erik knew in his mind what she was doing was a good thing. It was the best thing, a
    heroic thing, really.