Alpha Asher

“It’s not you, it’s me.” His face remains stoic, giving nothing away.

“I really wanted us to work out, but we just don’t click. I hope we can still be friends,” I say, trying to sound as sincere as possible.

Suddenly, his face lights up into a grin and he grabs my shoulders. “Fantastic! Absolutely fantastic, Lay…”

“Really?” I ask, excitement bubbling up inside me, despite the nickname I despise. “You really think so?”

“I have no doubt you’ll land this job!” His words fill me with relief. I let out a deep breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

My entire future hinges on this audition. If I don’t ace it, I’ll be living off my late father’s savings for a few more months. The sooner I can stop relying on my deceased father’s money, the less guilt I’ll carry to bed each night.

And to earn my keep through acting? Life would suddenly seem worth living.

“Only two more days,” I say, my voice shaky. I nervously fiddle with the strap of my bag. “I still have at least forty-five more seconds to memorize.”

My best friend and partner in crime, Carter, drapes his arm over my shoulder, leading me out of the small theater company I’m a part of. He’s not particularly careful with my backpack, but he makes sure not to knock the coffee out of my right hand.

That would be a disaster.

“Trust me, they won’t even have to think twice about choosing you,” Carter assures me, his warm smile radiating confidence.

Carter hails from the Harmony Pack but moved to the Desire Pack four years ago when we were still in school. His advice isn’t always the best since he’s a peacekeeper at heart, but his reassurances keep me going.

His calm, emerald-green eyes have been my rock since my father passed away… When I lost everything. My job, my sister to her new husband.

Don’t get me wrong, we still talk, but she knows I don’t approve of her decision to marry at nineteen. And to a banker? He’s as dull as watching paint dry.

Carter nudges me. “Listen, I gotta get back to the family. You okay to walk home by yourself?”

Carter’s family is like my own. They almost adopted me after my father died, having learned my mother had suffered the same fate at my sister’s birth.

Carter’s mother, a successful interior designer, is quite wealthy. She’s known for decorating Alpha Asher’s annual party, but she never shares the behind-the-scenes details with Carter.

“I suppose you’re getting ready for the party, huh?”

The whole pack is. From the east corner to the west, people are gearing up for the busiest time of the year. Tomorrow night, the party will kick off, and people will gather to watch the fireworks and listen to the music.

No one will see inside though. Unless of course, you’re invited. But no one from my side of the city will be, the only part of the city that has to live by the day as well as the night. Being known as the night pack doesn’t do justice to the commoners.

The perfect-skin and perfect-body entertainers from Main Street get all the jobs—and all the money. We are left working at coffee shops or hotel services, for the foreigners who can’t handle a life by night.

My dream is to act on Main Street one day. Live by the night and under the lights and be more famous than even the alpha himself. I want away from my life right now.

Carter spots a banner taped to a window. He pulls away from me, moving forward to grab it off. “This is it. Can you believe I’m going to make it inside? Inside? What if I meet the alpha?” Carter questions, his hair the color of burned wood from the forests of the Freedom Pack flopping around his eyes.

He can afford a haircut, unlike me, but won’t get one. I stare at the poster. Carter has this wild idea that he’s actually going to be attending the party.

He doesn’t get to show up dressed to the nines. He doesn’t get to drink and dance or do whatever the rich do at an event like that. He will be working, making sure they all have something to eat and drink all night long.

I still envy him, though. The poster gleams as I tilt the page toward the setting sun. It offers us a glimpse into the life of the wealthy.

They sit up on their hill, never to come down or be seen. A small dose of silver glitter shimmers across the paper, which is the color of rich violet. Curly letters in italic form twist tantalizingly across, inviting you to something out of reach to someone like me. This poster probably costs more than what I make in a month.

I roll my eyes. Bringing the page up, I get a whiff of the smell of blueberries. Odd.

“Over the top as usual,” I say, thrusting the paper back at Carter. “You’ll have to tell me everything.”

He nods, although he looks a bit apprehensive. A few months ago, he signed a contract, taking a vow of silence when asked about the party he helped create.

Already, he’s been reluctant to give me details, which only makes me more curious. “Sure thing,” he says, then he glances at his watch. “I’m gonna be late. See you tomorrow?”

“Of course,” I say, as he backs away from me. The sun sets around him, encasing him in a halo of brilliant orange and subtle pinks.

My friend is damn attractive, and he doesn’t even realize it. He tells me he’s saving himself for his mate, which is hard to believe, considering our pack’s morals.

Gloves are so fashionable for men here, I don’t think I’ve seen one without them; aside from Carter. He wants a pair though.

Main Street especially stresses the need for them, with certain entertainment agencies making it a mandatory part of the uniform.

Carter is quick to walk off, wearing his rather expensive sneakers his mother bought him. I, on the other hand, walk away wearing my worn-down shoes that look older than me.

As I dump my empty coffee cup into the bin, I listen to the sounds from Main Street.

The pulsating beats of music echo through the dark alleyways, reaching the forgotten backstreets where I reside. The rhythm is intoxicating, a tantalizing glimpse into the lives of the affluent. The ratio of rich to poor in this pack is skewed, with one impoverished individual for every five wealthy ones.

I just happen to be one of the unfortunate few who struggle to make ends meet.

By the time I reach my humble apartment, the sun has set. It’s a modest place, purchased with the money from my father’s death. The moment I have enough, I plan to donate all the money I’ve received to a charity he would have supported.

My bed is a constant reminder of my guilt.

In reality, it’s just a couch covered with blankets. The nights can get chilly here on the city’s outskirts, so if I run out of blankets, I resort to using towels.

There’s a note waiting for me on the couch when I get home.

I drop my bag on the floor and pick it up. It’s from my sister.

I can’t help but chuckle at her self-proclaimed title.

Despite my reluctance to visit my sister’s luxurious home—a stark contrast to my own living conditions—her note suggests she needs to talk.

Knowing Sky, she’s probably upset about something Dylan did and is blowing it out of proportion.

I throw on a coat and decide to walk to her place instead of splurging on a taxi. Sky doesn’t live too far, but getting there involves walking through a wealthier neighborhood.

By the time I reach her house, night has fallen and the air is icy. Her house is brilliantly lit, which doesn’t surprise me. Sky’s desire to outshine her neighbors is absurd, but she rarely listens to my advice.

She’s well aware of how much she’s changed since our father’s death, but she doesn’t seem to care. Why should she? Sky leads a life that many envy, especially those from our impoverished neighborhood.

I knock on her door, glancing at a garden gnome nearby.

The door swings open almost immediately, as if she was expecting me. There stands my sister, her cheeks flushed from wine, her eyes sparkling with excitement. It’s odd to see her so disheveled, her usually sleek black hair tousled and messy.

“Come in, quick,” Sky urges, pulling me inside before shutting the door behind me.

I don’t spend much time studying her expression.

She’s redecorated…

Previously, she had maintained Dylan’s dark and nondescript theme. Now, the main foyer is awash in hues of pink, white, and gold. It’s very…Sky.

I’m surprised Dylan allowed it.

“Wow,” I comment, my gaze landing on a vase of artificial white roses in the corner, perched on a marble pedestal. “Quite the transformation.”

Sky bites her lip as she loops her arm through mine. “Dylan finally gave in. But that’s not why I called you here.”

She guides me to a small two-seater couch and sits me down, but doesn’t join me. There’s a certain look in her dark eyes that makes me uneasy. Sky is naturally beautiful, and she knows how to use her looks to get what she wants.

A flick of her sleek black hair, a flash of her dazzling white smile, and she has everyone wrapped around her finger.

Except me.

“So, why am I here?” I ask, leaning back on the stiff couch. I suspect Sky chose it more for its aesthetic appeal than its comfort.

“Remember how Dad always wanted to get invited to the Alpha of Desire’s party when we were kids?”

I swallow hard. Sky and I rarely discuss our father. She never visits his grave, claiming it’s too morose and rundown for her liking. His illness hit us hard, and it’s still difficult to think about the man who raised us after our mother died giving birth to Sky.

We tend to avoid discussing the family we no longer have.

“The party he never got invited to, yes,” I reply.

Sky squeals like a child, her heels clicking against the expensive floor as she jumps up. She grabs my hands and shakes them excitedly.

“I applied for both of us, and guess what!”

I feel the breath leave my body.

“We got invited!”

“I can’t believe it…”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, Sky dashes out of the room, her long hair and pretty green dress a blur. I consider following her, but she returns almost instantly, clutching a pristine piece of paper that smells faintly of blueberries.

She thrusts it into my hand.