Payment To the Alpha
Chapter 49

Avery's POV

"Yes, my mother." Natasha said.

My mouth fell open, and I didn't blink. That's the woman I heard Natasha's mother. I heard Natasha's mother die, but that must mean that the menacing laugh came from...Oh god.

Natasha walked to one of the pictures that were hanging on the wall. It had a crack along with the picture. She wiped it clean on her dress and stared at whoever was in it.

Natasha handed me the picture. I was hesitant at first to grab it. Not sure what I would see. But I decided to take it, and when I saw it, I felt the pain that this house was holding.

It was a beautiful woman. She was blonde, with hazelnut eyes and an almond-shaped face. She was smiling widely in the picture. The smile reached her eyes, showing her teeth. I looked back at Natasha.

"Is this her?" I asked her in merely a whisper. Natasha nodded her head once again. She wasn't much for words right now, and I understood why.

"This," Natasha started and walked over to one of the door frames, putting her hands on it and giggling before continuing.

"This is where I grew up." She said with a smile. It was nice to see her smile. I just wish I didn't have to see the pain in her eyes.

"Alright, um, Avery, why don't you take your bag upstairs and settle in one of the rooms? I'll go and put a spell around the house," Natasha said and was about to walk out. My eyes grew wide at simply the thought of walking up the stairs of death and enter the darkness of hell.

No offense to those who lived here, or those who still do, and no offense to the house itself. But it's really dark up there, and I'm scared as hell.

I had just heard a woman scream for her life. Not just any woman at that, but Natasha's mother. I looked up the stairs and swallowed hard.

"Umm," I could only make noises. The mere thought of walking in this house alone gave me the creeps. I felt as though I was being watched.

"Problem?" Natasha asked. I turned back to look at her, and she looked amused for some reason. She bit her lip, and it looked as though she was trying to contain her laughter.

I couldn't tell Natasha that I was scared of walking here alone. It was her childhood home. I didn't want to offend her.

"It's creepy, huh?" She not so much asked but rather stated as her eyes scanned the hallway. I tilted my head back and forth.

"Not...creepy exactly. It's just," I didn't know how to form a sentence. Natasha snapped her fingers, and the lights were turned on. There was lighting along the staircase on the wall. The lamp in the hallway lit up as well, and so did the lights and candles in the other rooms.

Suddenly it didn't feel as scary. I guess light in the midst of darkness truly is important. I could see the home in the house. I saw the carpets, the photographs, the decor, even if broken, was lovely. I saw the fireplace in the living room. It had a crack in the middle, the thick stone overhead was broken, and pieces of stone were lying amongst the ashes.

But still, it had charm. I looked back to Natasha, who tilted her head and looked at me with a smile.

"Thank you," I said and grabbed my bag.

I made my way up the stairs carefully so as not to step on a broken floorboard.

As I was reaching the second floor, I almost fell backward but quickly grabbed the railing and threw myself up the last steps. I didn't lose balance. It just felt as though something went through me.

As though something tried to push me down the stairs. I stood up and dusted off my sweats before looking left and right. There were rooms on both sides, but something told me that I shouldn't go left. I kept walking down the right hall and walked past two rooms, one closet, and one bathroom, before I reached a bedroom. The door to the room, like the others, was off its hinges. It was lying on the floor and looked as though it had been burnt.

There were big black spots and holes were once a thick oak wood had been. I could see the beauty it once held. This house used to be amazing, I could tell. I walked into the bedroom and placed my bag on the bed, which made a cloud of dust rise from the covers.

I coughed as the dust reached up to my nose and down my air-pipe. After I was done with my little allergy attack, I started looking around. There were pieces of a desk, an old wardrobe, and drawings lying on the floor. It looked like a child had lived here. I went over to the single window and looked out. The view from the room was a big tree in the garden. The tree had a swing attached to it. Pictures of Natasha playing on the swing came popping into my head.

She, laughing and having fun with her mother. Natasha never told me much about her mom, but something just made me think that they were close.

"Wise choice," Natasha said from behind me. I turned around and saw her standing by the door with a bag in hand. I looked at her, confused.

"What's that?" I asked and pointed to the bag she was holding. Natasha raised an eyebrow and placed the bag on the bed next to mine.

"You didn't think I would leave you here alone for the night, did you?" A sense of relief came rushing over me.

"Oh, thank god," I said before I could think. Natasha laughed and came to take my hand.

"You're not alone, Avery. I hope you know that." She said and looked at me for an answer.

"I know I'm not. I just can't wait for all of this to be over." I said.

James' POV

"No! You're staying inside with the others!" I yelled at my sister when she came barging out on the field after I had told Alex my answer regarding Amber fighting in the war.

"James, I'm a warrior. You can't forbid me from fighting!" She yelled back.

"You might be a warrior, is, but I'm the Alpha, and my word is final. I'm not saying this as an Alpha. However, I'm saying this as your brother. I don't want to lose you." I told Amber as I stepped closer.

"And I'm saying this as your sister, go fuck yourself." She said. I scoffed and shrugged before turning around and planning to leave.

"James, you can't do this!"

"YES, I CAN!" I roared as I turned back around. Amber winced and took a step back.

"James...Please. I want to fight, to help. We don't know what we're up against, and if you start benching people because you're afraid of losing them, then I'm sorry, but we've already lost." She said, and I felt my face fall. "There is a reason why our pack has always let she-wolfs be warriors because we're equal. Because we're stronger when we come together. You can't be emotional in this, brother. I'm sorry, but you know you can't. This isn't only Avery-my sister-we're talking about. It's the Luna of our pack." I could see the pleading in Amber's eyes, but at the same time, she meant every word. I knew she was right. I couldn't be emotional, James can be, but the Alpha can't.

I walked up to my sister and grabbed hold of her shoulders.

"You're not allowed to die, understand?"

"I won't, James. I won't let this family lose another member." She said as she took one of my hands from her shoulder and held it.

"What about me? Am I allowed to die?" Alex asked from behind Amber. His eyebrows were raised and his face serious.

"Yes," Me and Amber said at the same time. Alex's eyes fell, and he looked at us with a bored expression.

"But if you die, I'm gonna have to kill you." Amber said as she turned around and walked back to the packhouse. I laughed, and Alex chuckled. The others went after Amber, ready to eat after the intense practice schedule they were on. We couldn't afford to lose a second before the war.

I walked up to Alex, wrapped my arm around his shoulders, and gave him a big smile. He looked at me as though something was wrong. Which it was. I gave him a punch to the stomach with all my power, not bothering to hold back, and watched him fall to the ground. He clutched his stomach and groaned in pain.

"What the fuck was that for!?" He asked. I got down on one knee beside him.

"That's for even joking about your death. Do it again, and this pain will feel like paradise." I said with a smile as I got up and walked back to the house. I heard Alex groaning and looked back, only to see him rolling over, clutching his stomach. A chuckle escaping my lips, and a victorious smile growing on my face.

I was sitting on my bed, staring at the wall. I couldn't believe or even grasp the truth of who I let into my pack. He smelled like a werewolf. A smell I've never sniffed on anybody unless they were one. He's a wizard and probably cooked about some shit to make us believe him.

All the red flags. All the warning signs. I should have sensed something!

But no. I let him near every pack member, from the youngest to the oldest. He seemed so, for lack of a better word, 'normal.' I kept a close eye on him, yes, but nothing indicated that he was a wizard. That it was Crow.

I condemned myself for not knowing. I could have killed him. Maybe not, but I could have tried.

'He will get his tomorrow.'

Tomorrow?

'Yes. Prepare yourself, James. The war is coming.'

Avery's POV

I stretched my legs and arms, rubbing my eyes with my hands, trying to wake up. It was dark. There was no sun or light. Complete darkness covered every inch of the room.

I looked to my side and saw Natasha sound asleep with the ghost of a smile on her face.

She looked so peaceful. She told me once that whenever she's away from Carlos, she always dreams of him. It sounded kind of cheesy at the time but honestly? I would dream of James a million times over. Us dancing in the rain, kissing at sundown, walking on the beach, and every other cliche romantic scene there is. I would choose those dreams every day for the rest of my life if they replaced the nightmares of him dying.

They had become frequent lately. Always the same one. We were out on the field. A wizard with a dark hood covering his face raises his hands and plans to kill me. James gets in his way and takes the blow. He always dies trying to protect me.

So I made a promise to myself that if it comes down to it, I will end all of it. I will destroy Crows' plans, and I will save James and the others. At the end of the day, the responsibility of the werewolf kind lay on my shoulders. I'll be damned if I let anything happen to the people I love.

I felt a sudden anguishing thirst, and my throat was drying up. I stood up slowly, trying not to make too much noise and wake Natasha. I made my way out of the room on my tip-toes and walked to the bathroom. I didn't dare walking down the stairs alone.

I opened the door to the bathroom, and the shrieking sound made me wince and look back to see if I woke up Natasha. I was relieved to see that I hadn't. As I entered in my groggy state, I put my hand on the faucet and turned it. Only to see no water pouring out. I turned it on and off a few times before giving up and giving in to the realization that I had to walk down.

I had seen Natasha turn on the water downstairs in the kitchen. With a heavy sigh and little to no courage, I walked towards the stairs. I carefully stepped on each board, again not wanting to wake Natasha or the ghost of her mother. I tip-toed my way to the kitchen, constantly looking over my shoulder. I'm a wuss, I know.

I walked into the kitchen and turned the faucet, happily watching the water pour out. I cupped my hands and used them as a cup to catch the water and drink.

The coldness slowly moisturizing my throat as it glides down. A quiet moan escaped my lips, and I dove in for more. When I was satisfied, I turned it off and decided to walk back up.

I walked out in the hall and towards the stairs only to stop dead in my tracks. My breath caught in my throat, which suddenly turned as dry as it was before.

There was someone sitting on the first step. It was a girl, a young one. She held on to the railing, pushing her head against it. Her eyes squeezed shut. She was dressed in a pink nightgown with a teddy bear on it. She didn't look to be older than five.

I walked towards her slowly, bending my knees in front of her so that I reached her level.

"Excuse me, sweetie?" I tried getting her attention. She, however, didn't seem to notice my presence.

I cleared my throat and placed a hand on her knee.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" I asked. My heart, breaking at sight. She looked terrified. And then I heard it. The torturous screams I had heard when we first entered. The woman being killed.

Not just a woman. Natasha's mom.

But does that mean?

I looked at the young girl. Her black hair was braided in the back, and I saw her tiny hand reaching up to her face, wiping away a tear. Her bottom lip trembling.

"Natasha?" I said in a gasp. It couldn't be...

The little girl's head flew up, and we made eye contact. Her big brown eyes looked at me in pain.

"Hide," She whispered a cold chill reaching down my spine, making every hair on my body rise.