Alpha

The dispatcher assured me that the police would arrive soon to take my statement and begin an investigation.

I had just finished talking to the police when I received another call, and the screen in His name flashed.

"Ziar Kincaid..."

My first thought was, "Does he know?" This alarmed me even more. How could I lie to her father?

He must have called her, but he couldn’t get through, afraid she’d called him. I needed to distract him so he wouldn’t worry.

After answering, I put the phone to my ear.

"Alpha, this is Ziar Kincaid. I’d like to speak to my daughter; she’s not answering her calls," he said with utmost seriousness.

I gave him vague answers to reassure him, but his next words made my blood run cold. Kidnapped? Someone sent him a video of her?

All my fears were confirmed, and I realized she had been kidnapped by a stalker. A shudder of rage and regret washed over me. I’d promised to protect her, her father, and her, and yet I’d failed so terribly.

I didn’t even deserve her or her love. Before I knew it, my knees had hit the floor, completely broken by guilt and the realization of the gravity of the situation.

And now Zair Kincaid was coming to find her. How could I ever meet him after such a miserable failure?

I’d have to tell the police and her family about the stalker and get her back. But I promised myself that when I got to whoever had kidnapped her, I’d make him scream for days on end, endlessly. He’d want to die, but it wouldn’t be granted to him.

I was still planning how I’d torture this bastard when my phone beeped, and I noticed a video sent from an unknown number.

With trembling fingers and crushing terror, I opened the video. Never before had I experienced such emotions. They tore through my body as my eyes were glued to the screen.

And there she was, pure and innocent, tied to a chair, blindfolded, and gagged.

"Lu-naa!" Her name made me gasp... my fingers clenched into fists until they ached.

I looked at her, trembling fingers reaching for her face. My blood boiled, my pulse pounded wildly in my ears, heated by anger.

It was torture I’d never experienced before, emotional torture where I was completely helpless. The control I’d craved, like a lifeline, was taken away, leaving me completely powerless.

At the mercy of fate. I always thought I could control it, but the goddess had its way, and it brought me to my knees.

I, someone like me, never one to bend, lay on the floor, watching the woman I loved with all my heart chained somewhere... at the mercy of a madman.

My eyes never left her face. What must she have felt at that moment?

Frightened?

Petrified?

Terror?

Unconscionability gripped me like a noose, choking me. The video was silent, just plain text at the bottom.

{If you don’t want a piece of her, stop looking.}

How could I? The mere thought of someone harming her and my unborn child broke me more than I could have imagined.

There was only one option left... the option I regretted most. It would have taken away the last of my sanity, but I couldn’t wait any longer.

I needed to take the place of the Alpha King of all American Packs. I needed power and control, and most importantly, I needed the resources and obedience of the people associated with it.

That’s exactly what we did. Imprisoning and eliminating those who harmed the innocent. We were "bullet justice," a force that existed long before the police.

Swift and ruthless, we didn’t need years to track people down or go through long, tedious trials. We delivered instant sentences.

Our methods were swift and ruthless. We spared no criminals, lest they ruin the lives of others.

I never wanted this, but for her, I would do anything, even if it meant killing the last vestiges of warmth in my heart.

For her, I would sacrifice everything.

The Elder Council was hot on my heels, and an army of trained people waited for me to step up and win their loyalty. I was ready to carry out any order without blinking an eye or asking a single question.

Our world was dangerous; people hid in corners to break us, and we did the same. Finally, suppressing these emotions and thoughts, I typed a reply with trembling fingers.

{What do you want? Why did you kidnap her?}

I sent it to an unknown number, knowing it was another intruder. I tried not to add any pleas, because that was exactly what he wanted, to irritate me.

I needed to contact him subtly.

After sending the message, I forwarded his number to my IT specialist, who was working on hacking and finding the person who had hacked our system. Hoping to find at least some clue.

I then called Olfi and Hunter to canvass the area within a two-mile radius of the building and speak to any eyewitnesses who might have seen her. Any clues about where she was last seen or with whom could help us track her down.

We also needed to check the CCTV footage in the area. Knowing the police would be searching for footage, I hoped they’d find something.

The police arrived soon after, and both detectives seemed cooperative when I invited them inside.

"I’m Detective Pimber, and this is my partner, Hastian." They introduced themselves, and we shook hands.

"I appreciate you getting here so quickly."

"So tell us everything." Detective Pimber, who was almost my age and seemed very serious about his job, pulled out a notepad and looked at me intently.

I started by telling them everything I knew, from her true identity to the stalking situation we’d encountered. The death threats and what had happened today.

I showed them the video I’d just received. They wrote down the number and studied it carefully.

"We’ll need this. Notify us immediately if you receive any more messages. Don’t communicate with him without us present. We’ll try to trace this number," Gastian said, relaying the information.

I didn’t mention my previous visit to Zara, though. It wouldn’t make a good impression, and I could only hope I wouldn’t be considered a suspect, which was quite likely.

They quietly wrote everything down.

"Mr. Sterling, the police should have been notified sooner that someone was stalking Miss Zara."

I nodded.

"I know, but I hired a bodyguard for her, and she lived with me. We thought we had everything under control." But apparently we were mistaken."

They began to inspect the apartment and noticed her bag.

Luggage.

"Was Miss Zara heading somewhere?" Hastian raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Yes, she was going to visit her family. She couldn’t visit them over Christmas break because she twisted her ankle, and then the storm hit."

"We’ll thoroughly search the apartment to see who else was here, and whether the perpetrator came to the apartment themselves or she went to see him," Pimber said, sweeping under the cushions of the chaise lounge with gloves.

"I’ll be fully cooperative." But his words gave me pause.

According to the guards, she came down voluntarily. That meant she was either going somewhere or meeting someone. And if she was, she knew who they were.

The detectives were now checking her bags, and I was glad I’d pulled out a pregnancy test. For some reason, I didn’t want to share this information with anyone.

"You’ll need to come with us to the station. Our team will need this apartment empty to search it for evidence and fingerprints."

I thanked the detectives and left the apartment with them.

The heaviness in my heart increased as I thought about how to tell my mother what had happened, how to prepare for the wrath of her family, and how to overcome the guilt that was trying to suffocate me.

***

Zara

Marcus’s mother grabbed me by the hair and lifted my head. A wicked smile played on her lips, as if she were enjoying my suffering.

My head exploded with pain. The woman held me with an iron grip. "Feeling disgusted? Let me fuel it even more when you learn the truth about your parents."

I watched helplessly, silently for now. Not giving them a reason to use this against me. I was more concerned about the unborn life in my womb than I was about myself.

Marcus pulled a chair out of the corner of the room, and the scraping sound on the hard floor irritated my ears.

I tried not to wince at the sudden pain in my scalp. He pulled the chair across from me and helped his mother settle into it. She let go of my hair.

"Tell her, Mother. I’m sure her perfect parents never did that. Tell her they’re murderers and executioners," Marcus spat. Hatred filled his smiling face.

How he’d transformed from this cheerful and playful boy into this hater was astounding.

And I couldn’t believe what they were saying about my parents. They would never hurt anyone. The world had wronged them so many times, and yet they remained steadfast, never turning into evil people.