Alpha King’s Lost Luna

BECKY

It had been days since Ca ssandra had left the clinic and in the short time of her absence, the city of Anemond ha greatly. From where | stood in the lab, | could only see the beautiful trees and flowers that grew outside the building, but | knew all too well that the street was empty. The entire capital was like this in the daylight now.

The old Beta, Oliver Moses, had declared himself the King’s Regent in the absence of the Alpha King. There was no word of Asher Collins or his whereabouts, so the ruling of the kingdom fell on his self-appointed shoulders.

He'd imposed a curfew on the whole city, claiming that some imposters were hiding within its walls. Those imposters were allegedly responsible for the disappearance of the king. Every single day, people were rounded up and brought to Merliscire Palace for questioning. Some left without issue, but some of them faced absolute punishment for their alleged crimes. They were questioned and accused of foregoing the “truth”, and then were hung without remorse for their alleged crimes.

But despite these hangings, there weren’t any imposters.

| had no idea how long this purge was going to last, and as the days went by, | began to wonder if | would soon be dragged along the street toward the dungeon and then hung for my connection to Ca ssandra,

My dearest friend had been convicted and condemned as a traitor. According to the Regent, she had fled to the North to avoid punishment for her crimes against Wegalla. Though Oliver Moses accusations were lies, no one dared to step forward and question his decision. There was too much gray area, and no one knew where the Alpha King had gone.

Had he truly been captured by so-called imposters from the North?

Or was he killed by the Regent himself, as | expected?

Just as | began to drown in the violent sea of my thoughts, | heard footsteps behind me and turned around to see Di ckson standing in the doorway, holding a tray in his hands.

“You need to take a break,” he advised gently, and he gestured toward me with the platter. “I brought you some hot milk and some sandwiches. Why don’t you get some rest and eat something?”

“| don’t know.” | started to say but Di ckson interrupted me at once.

“If you don’t get something in your stomach, you're going to collapse,” he insisted, his eyes simultaneously warm and concerned. “You'll crash before you can make any progress.”

| wanted to fight against his words, but | knew there was some merit to them. | took a deep breath and then gratefully accepted a cup of milk from the tray. Dickson tried to get me to take a sandwich, but | didn’t have much of an appetite.

“I'm resting,” | insisted after | took a sip of the milk, and then | nodded at the window in front of me. “I’m enjoying the scenery of spring”

Di ckson released a sigh and then set the tray on an empty table. That isn’t resting. Becky. You need to get some real sleep. You've been awake for days.”

| wish | could sleep,” | said quietly. “But | can’t.”

| took another drink of the milk to satisfy Di ckson and then set it down and turned

dback to my work.

“Can you thank Hannah on my behalf?” | asked him, but just as | was about to step over to my desk. Dic kson blocked my way and stood in front of me.

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“Becky.” he uttered, and he gently touched my arm. “You can’t push yourself like this.”

| stared into his blue eyes for a moment and then Dic kson took a step forward and pulled me into a hug

“| understand how you feel, he soothed me as he held me tight, | didn’t protest his touch at all. In fact, it Warmth radiated from his skin and the rich smell of his woody cologne filled my nose. It was almost enough but | still couldn’t relax. | was desperate to continue my work.

When Dic kson came to the clinic, he brought me news from the Wild Crawler Pack. Angela, the sick mother we'd treated. had passed away. Many of the patients in the overcrowded clinic had died.

This news, coupled with the lack of progress in my research had rendered me frustrated and defeated.

| had made a promise to save Angela and Marina’s lives and I'd failed them.

As the memory of their kind eyes and smiles appeared in my mind, my eyes filled with tears, and suddenly, sobs rose up from my chest. | began to cry so hard that Di ckson’s back stiffened for a minute. He hesitated for a second before he patted me gently.

“This isn’t your fault,” he assured me. “None of this is. | know you've been blaming yourself for what happened in Wild Crawler, but this isn’t your fault. No one had expected Angela’s condition to deteriorate so quickly and besides... you can’t conjure a cure in such a short amount of time. The more you try to rush it, the harder it’s going to be.”

| knew what he said was true. | had tried to assure myself of the same thing, but still, every time | closed my eyes, | saw Angela and Marina. I'd likely never forget the helpless looks in their tired eyes

“What if | can’t do it?” | whispered. “What if | can’t make the cure? I’m not a sorceress, and | might never accomplish what Spike did.”

“Becky, you're incredibly intelligent, not to mention talented, Dic kson assured me, and when he pulled away, he removed his dark glasses. “You have all of the makings of an incredible healer. You can do this. It’s just going to take time.”

| shook my head and tucked a lock of my dark red hair behind my ear. What | needed wasn’t just time. Spike’s research report had been very informative and I'd studied it carefully... but something seemed to be wrong.

See, for some

reason, my analysis of the coroner’s report on Angela was inconsistent and

showed major differences from Spike’s research. There were some discrepancies, and | wasn’t sure what to make of them. | had started to wonder if something was amiss.

For so long, | had believed Spike was right and his findings were indisputable. How could he be wrong? He was a sorcerer. after all, and he had been killed in cold blood because he had found the cure to the mysterious illness that was plaguing the country. Yet | couldn’t help but wonder... what if Spike’s report was somehow incorrect? What if he’d made a mistake after all, and what we'd believed to be the cure wasn't the cure at all?

Suddenly, a thought crossed my mind, and | straightened up and looked at Di ckson. His blue eyes crinkled at the sudden movement, and his eyebrows creased together.

“What's going on?” he asked, his tone drenched with concern. “You have this strange look on your face. Are you feeling okay?” “| feel fine,” | assured him. “But | have an idea.”

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