Alpha Ren

Brielle

 “I tried.”

 I swallow, eyeing the tips of her fingers that plaster the response letter of my last employment attempt to the surface of the oak table. Her eyes - silver as mercury - glare at me, piercing straight through my calm facade. She’s clearly not happy. Her blonde hair was clipped back from her face, allowing for her high cheekbones and sharp jawline to appear more prominent. She’s poised and sophisticated; more prepared for a life as a socialite than a maternal figure.

She’s never been too kind, always strict and exacting, wanting the best and nothing but. I made a decision this year not to go off to university to study a course mother would be proud of. It didn’t make sense to me. But now I’ve stepped across a line I was avoiding.

 “Trying, isn’t enough in this family,” she says pointedly, “no one is going to hire a useless girl with no higher education to her name.”

Her words hit me straight where it hurts. She’s right, though. This Pack offers free education past high school, and I failed to take it. Many have snubbed their noses at me, refusing to accept my work. I’m to the point of giving up, all my friends having left for school, and my mother ready to push me away because I’m a failure.

“I think you should leave,” mother says, smoothly standing from the table. She makes a scene of scrunching the paper up into a ball, tossing into the bin beside her.

“When you’re employed, and have something to your name, you can come back to this family. Right now, associating with you is not in your father and I’s best interest. Pack your things and leave by dawn.” I watch her leave.

No remorse, no regret. She watched my older brother go to university and become a successful surgeon. A daughter who’s only skill is pulling a paintbrush too across a canvas is easy to disregard. I don’t stick around. I shove as much as I can into one duffle bag, and slink out without having to see my mother again. Giving her anymore satisfaction is not on my agenda.

The Loyalty Pack is a safe Pack, kept in good condition. It’s built around a beautiful lake, and right in the centre of that lake, is our Alpha’s estate. People gossip that he can see all from there, and watches over everyone’s mistakes. Despite the advertisement that everyone in this Pack is loyal to each other, it’s all a lie. In evidence of this. My father built this home upon a hill, among with other estates to look over the view. As I emerge outside, I see the moonlight upon the glassy surface of it. I would marvel in its beauty were I not suddenly homeless. My plan is to get out of this Pack.

Soon. I’ve been conspiring to do so for awhile, but with no money and way out of here, it’s hopeless. I need a job. But who will hire me, without any further schooling? Trotting down the cobblestone path toward the village at the foot of the hill, I curse my parents. If my mother thinks I’m coming back, she’s crazy. And I know my father will never ask about me. Where I’m going to get my money from, I’m unsure. The lakeside village my parents became so wealthy in is so popular, as it seems to be the only place Ren is ever seen to visit. The docks his marvellous ships glide into every now-and-again are huge, a hub for wealth and prosperity. It’s where everyone aspires to visit, to catch a glimpse of those who step off that elusive island in the middle of the lake.

I avoid it. It reminds me of those years father would take myself and my brother down to the docks to watch Ren arrive for a visit to the mainland. It was always a big spectacle I would often look forward to. Instead of walking by the lakefront, avoiding gushing couples and giggling friend groups, I wander down the streets at the foot of the hill. No where to stay. No friends. My bag is as heavy on my arm, as the gazes of passers by is heavy on my shoulders. On my dignity.