Alpha Mason

"Legend has it that in Ancient Greece, King Lycaon was fervently devoted to Zeus. He built a temple for Zeus in the city of Arcadia and, in honor of the god, performed human sacrifices. However, in violation of the sacred law of hospitality, the king sacrificed the lives of visitors to Arcadia. Zeus wanted to ascertain the truth and disguised himself as a pilgrim. Even though Lycaon's subjects suspected the visitor was a god, they invited him to a banquet and served him the flesh of their victims. Enraged, Zeus transformed Lycaon into a beast, thus giving rise to the first werewolf."

Nothing in Helltown was ordinary. That's what Ayla heard as soon as she arrived in the quiet and peaceful town chosen by her father, which, according to her mother, would help her get her life back on track. Without friends and the negative influences and distractions of a big city, Ayla had heard in the days leading up to the move that a small-town environment, with different values and some rules, would bring her back to the girl she was before Ash Daniels. Or, as they would often whisper when they didn't want her to hear, the cursed Ash.

But Ayla listened. From her upstairs bedroom, through the walls, as firewood burned in the neighboring house's fireplace and a child cried for being grounded on the street behind. She could smell the pizza box in the front yard and her mother's perfume, the same one she had used as long as she could remember. And she still felt the faint scent of death when Ash's eyes became cloudy and he passed away.

"Ayla," she heard her mother's voice and felt a gentle shake as her mother held her arm as if waking her from memories, perhaps the last ones of what she had left behind. "Come on, help me with the smaller boxes."

She silently agreed, pushing Ash out of her thoughts. She adjusted the hood of her coat over her head and grabbed a watermelon gum from her pocket. After a few hours of travel, she believed she might not be the perfect picture of the 'new girl.' However, she had the impression that the man with the pleasant voice who was talking to her father at that moment wouldn't mind that she had spent the last few nights without sleep. All she needed as soon as she got home was some coffee.

She found the sheriff handsome in his uniform, despite appearing too young for the position, with well-groomed hair, a faint dimple on his chin, and eyes the color of a storm. Tall, athletic, and with a scent that made Ayla realize she had never smelled anything like it before. It was intense, a mix of gray, blood, caramel, and something her senses didn't seem trained to identify. It was indescribable and concealed, as if something dark and cruel were lurking right there, beyond her eyes, nose, and ears. When he extended his hand to her, as she held it for a brief moment, Ayla could hear that his heart was beating normally.

"Mason Field," he smiled, his teeth white and immaculate. His mouth contorted dangerously into a half-smile, sending a shiver down Ayla's spine, much like when Ash had opened his arms on the edge of the terrace where her family lived. It was as if death were right in front of her.

"Ayla Greenwood," she replied, without a smile, only feeling the warmth of Mason's hand still tingling in hers as a warning to stay away from him.

"Ayla will be attending St. Anna High. We're all very excited about the move," Rose said, her eyes sparkling, as she adjusted her blond hair and tilted her face in a charming way, making Ayla wonder if her mother really wanted to play that ridiculous role.

"You'll like it there, miss. It's an excellent school," her voice sounded almost condescending, as if she were dealing with a child.

"I'm already starting to like it here," Aidan, Ayla's father, said. "Thank you, Sheriff, for the warm welcome."

"And don't forget, Mr. Greenwood, if you need anything, you can find me at the number I gave you," he pointed to the house on the left, "or at home."