Alpha Noah

~AbellaPlease check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

The authorities couldn’t tell me who the hooded man was.

For once, I paid extra to get driven to work, rather than walking. Expenses outside of my strict budget aren’t usually permitted, considering I hardly make money that doesn’t go toward rent. This, however, is completely justified. I can’t tell if that hooded man was trying to help me, but I’m not taking risks.

Thankfully, the stalker man was detained immediately. Crime in this Pack is almost always brought to justice. That’s what makes the fact that the authority can’t find this hooded man all the more perplexing. And frightening.

At least work is uneventful. I’m stuck in a back room sorting through mail, not seeing a single face. I can’t wait to get home and see Sam. She will love to hear about what happened.

I can already predict her curiosity about the hooded man.

As I was sifting through mail, something catches my eye. It’s a rectangle box, covered in glimmering golden paper. It’s so soft to the touch, it sends shivers down my spine. Much to my disbelief, it has my name and address printing on it. It doesn’t suggest who brought it, so I take it onto the break room.

I’m careful opening it, peeling back the paper with precision. Inside, is a small velvet black box, and a golden note which flutters out onto the table. I pick up the note first, more curious about that then what might be in the box. I want to know who this is from.

Abella. I’m sorry for last night’s events, I hope you are not too shaken. Tonight, I am having a party (find address on back). I hope you wear my gift. Consider it a thank you for last night.

~ Your Secret Admirer

Flipping the note over, I in fact see the address. It’s a place in the town over. It’s a wealthy town that I can barely afford to pay for a ride over, let alone stay there. Regardless, I wouldn’t go anyway. If this is the man that wore the hood like was insinuated, the last thing I want to do is thank him. I want to forget this all happened.

Scrunching the note up, I toss it into the trash. Curiously though, I open the small box. Inside, is a pair of glittering earrings. Are these real diamonds? I can’t throw these out, so I slip them into my work bag. Maybe Sam will know how to get rid of these.

As the work day slipped by, I couldn’t help my wandering mind. Who is this hooded man? Clearly he is a generous, wealthy man from another town.

Why are they interested in me?

Once work was completed, I stopped by at a local bar to see Sam. It’s her idea. She can’t drink here, considering the strict alcohol ban, however, she likes to sit in a booth spying on attractive guys who walk through. Here, I can talk to her about what happened last night, completely safe in a public place.

“So did they get the guy?” Sam questions, chewing on the end of her potato fry. I’m glad I came out to dinner with her today rather than going to the party I was invited to by that stranger. I’m deciding to keep that to myself.

“He’s been detained. They are saying he won’t give an explanation to why he did it,” I tell her, resting my head in my hands.

It’s hard not knowing what he was planning to do to me.

“I wouldn’t think about it if I were you. He’s not your problem now,” Sam says dismissively. She’s clearly distracted by someone who has just walked into the bar, so I glance over my shoulder to see what has gotten her interest so quickly. She even speaks up about it. “Do you see that guy? God he’s cute.”

Her gaze leads to a man who walks in, shoulders slouched, hat shoved on his head. From where I sit, I can’t see much of his face, which seems to be the point with what he wears and the way he walks.

“Stop staring,” I scold Sam, who seems to be staring dreamily at him. Either she is desperate, or sees more than I do. “He looks like he’s had a bad day.”

“Then let’s call him over.”

There was no chance to hush Sam, as she calls the man over with some flirtatious remark which makes him halt in his step to look up at us. I see a flash of dark eyes before he looks down again. Much to my surprise, he saunters over, sudden air of confidence in his step. Now he has our attention, he seems much more brazen.

He slides into the booth, right next to Sam. I sit on the other side, nervously fiddling with my fingers under the table. He glances up at me, and for a full minute, I’m practically struck by the entire look at him, it has all the hair on my body standing on end.

“Good evening girls. I’m glad to see you,” he says with an accent that is practically magical. It lingers in the air, making me shiver.

Then, he flips off his hat

Both Sam and I flinch at the sight of him. His eyes, although normal, are sharp and focused, staring so deeply into my soul it’s unnerving. His skin glows flawlessly under the lights of the bar, confirming an exotic, otherworldly look about him. His hair is the most ethereal part of him. The roots of his hair grow a brilliant golden colour before fading out into thick, inky darkness on the end.

He’s clearly speaking to me, but his voice is muffled in my ears. Sam seems as dumbfounded as me, wondering how such a perfect creature is sitting out our table. There doesn’t seem to be a single flaw from his round eyes, defined cheekbones and straight jawline.

“It’s nice to meet you Cian, this is Abella,” I hear Sam say, snapping me out of my trance. Blinking a few times, I look up at the stranger, who stares blatantly at me.

“Beautiful name,” he breathes. Not once does his gaze ever falter.

“Hello,” is all I say. I’m not so sure why I’m struck by this man. Maybe because he is clearly not normal, nor from this world. It seems foolish to think like that, since I doubt he is immortal, yet he looks so different. Maybe he is from the Desire Pack, where dying hair and looking eccentric is expected of people there.

I expect this stranger, named Cian, to turn his attention to Sam. She is not only more attractive, but she’s confident and a good speaker. Instead, though, Cian remains focused on me, as if I have anything else to offer the conversation.

“It’s a shame you didn’t come to my party,” Cian says slowly. My heart almost completely stops for a moment. “I was expecting you.”

My mind hurts trying to put everything together.

I need to order a taxi and get back to my locked apartment as soon as I can. Then, I can report Cian to the authority. How did he even find me here? He must be the reason I feel so watched recently. Somehow, he’s managed to completely take over my life. He knew I would find the letter at my work. He knew I would be here with Same.

“Sorry, but I should go,” I say without warning, getting up from the booth, shuffling my way out. Sam protests, questioning where I am going, but I ignore her. I’m sure I look foolish walking briskly out of the bar, not looking behind me.

The cold air outside is a slap in the face as I emerge onto the street. Curfew is approaching fast, I assume.

I need to get out of here.

“Why are you leaving so fast?” I hear Cian say from behind me. Whirling around, he follows me out, hands shoved in his dark pants, an raised eyebrow in my direction. He looks like the shadows themselves with the dark button shirt with buttons the same gold colour as his hair.

“You’re a stalker. Get away from me,” I accuse. My backwards steps down the street are only matched by Cian’s as he follows me. Considering the hour of night, no one is around us, the remaining dead until morning.

Cian looks sinister under the luminous glow of the street lamp, his smile sly, making me shiver. I’ve concluded he cannot be normal.

“Come on Abella. Can we not just talk?” he questions.

There is nothing he could say to make me want to talk to him. He’s a stalker, who found out my location too many times for me to be able explain away. It makes me wonder how long he has been plotting this. By the expression on his face, I wouldn’t be surprised if he is planning to attack me right now.

“Get away from me. If you come any closer, I’m going to call the authorities,” I threaten, to which Cian only chuckles.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t say I’m all that threatened by your authority.”

His words send my blood cold, so I decide I’m not going to stick around much longer. I give him one last glance, before I turn to run down the street. Sam will be safe inside the bar, and if he follows me, I’ll scream. Curfew isn’t over yet, meaning people won’t be afraid to come out of their homes to save me.

“You can run all your like Abella,” I hear him call out after me. “I’ll always find you.”