The Mystical Attraction of Alpha

Chapter 136

Chapter 137 – The Herb

Ella

My grief keeps me awake far longer than I’m sure I could have managed otherwise. I’m alone, so I don’t bother trying to quiet my keening, wailing my despair into the night air. I’m not sure how long it will take for the shift to take hold, but I pray that the violent transformation will generate enough heat and energy to allow me to survive. The possibility that it might fail seeps into my mind and suddenly I wonder if I should have just let myself fall asleep, rather than meeting my end in agony.

Oh Goddess, I should have taken the herb hours ago. I think woefully. Now it’s probably too late.

This thought only makes me cry harder, but there’s also a growing kernel of warmth in my belly, pulsing inside me and radiating the strangest sensations through my body. Suddenly the entire forest explodes into a cacophony of sound – chirping crickets, croaking frogs, the low hoot of an owl, and other things I can scarcely recognize. I can hear small animals scurrying below the snowpack, and the sound of the wind rustling through the trees for miles away. It’s too overwhelming, and I’m amazed by the images that appear in my mind, explaining each sound with a clarity I couldn’t have possibly imagined. It’s almost as though I can see sound… and I realize this must be how it is for wolves all the time. The herb is working.

Then I hear something else, pounding footprints crunching through the snow. “No! No, no, no.” I moan desperately, my mind slowly piecing together the puzzle of information. If I hear footsteps it means… it means either Sinclair or the Prince has finally caught up with me. Either way… I’m going to be found imminently, which means I didn’t have to take the herb after all. I find the strength to push my body up on my hands and knees, sticking my fingers down my throat and trying to make myself vomit… to undo the horrible mistake.

That’s how Sinclair found me a few minutes later, sobbing and gagging, begging the Goddess to take back my rash actions. “Ella!” He shouts, racing towards me. “Oh thank the stars.” His voice pierces my skull at a terrifying volume, and I clamp my hands over my ears, crying out.

loud,

I cry again, my chest heaving. “No, you… You’re

I jerk away from him, my adrenaline spiking again now that my baby’s life is in unnecessary danger. I’m crying so hard I can’t catch my breath,

try to explain, my words coming out babbled and slurred. “I didn’t th-think… I had…

“We need an extraction right now. Call for a chopper.” I hear the man pulling out his phone and the dial tone is as loud

croons, dragging me into his embrace even though I fight tooth and nail. “Come on, let’s get you warm.” He unzips his coat and pulls me against

the pilot’s voice just as easily. Sinclair’s heart beat is pounding against my ear, and the

through his thick jacket. “We don’t have much time.” He says then,

question, clearly

cuts him off, “I’ll explain later, we need to get out of the

in his arms, and I sob into his neck.

a run, and suddenly I understand how he reached me so fast. Even carrying me on two legs, he and his men are five times as fast as a human, and probably ten times

every bit as overwhelmed as my ears. Sinclair’s familiar aroma has been magnified by a thousand, deepened and more complex than I’ve ever experienced before. It’s so strong I almost feel intoxicated with it, but I can smell other things too, things I never imagined having scents –

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