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55.55% Her Masquerade / Chapter 5: Chapter Five

章節 5: Chapter Five

                                                                                                                                                                                                             "Damn it, Adam, I'm telling you we need to take action-"                                                                                  

        "And I'm telling you we need to wait and see what happens. We can't stick our foot in our mouths-"            

        "I'll tell you where I'm gonna stick my foot if you don't stop talking over me-"                                                 

        "Gentlemen, gentlemen" Alpha Johnathan says calmly. "Enough."                                                                  

        It's too early to be going through this, Lucas grumbles silently to himself. It is early morning in the Alpha's office, the sunlight slanting through crystal windows to illuminate the beautiful room weak and dim in the face of the wee morning hours. Domed scones were still lit to properly alight the room, glowing a pale gold across cold wood floors and arching ceiling beams shine to a polish, the walls only a shade or two lighter than the rich mahogany of the floors.                                                                                                        

        Stretching out before him is a long table of cherry wood as old as Lucas's bloodline, it's seats filled with older men his father's age, each also appearing grumpy at the early meeting hour, one more so than others- Charles Fairweather, a balding weedy man with only a horseshoe of muddy hair, who is already red in the face, standing from his seat.                                                                                                                               

        Across from him sits Jasper's father and Beta to Alpha Johnathan, Adam Bloom, who seems to be trying his best to hold in his temper but is failing much as his son often does. He doesn't look much like Jasper save for his hair, which lacks the usual flare and style his son often swaggers around with. He does look, however, like he is debating on shifting and tearing Charles's head off simply for fun.                                 

        And, at the head of the table, sits Lucas's father, dressed in respectable slacks and a plaid button down shirt- which is the most effort his father ever bothers to make and only for meetings. Despite the early hour, he appears calm and serene, as if there is no where else he would rather be than sitting in a board meeting of angry and worried higher-level pack members acting as nosy advisors or worry-warts. Lucas doubts he himself will be able to make such an effort when it is his turn to lead these meetings but he tries his best to sit up straight and appear awake, though a yawn slips from his lips every few minutes despite his efforts.                                                                                 

         "Sir, this is ridiculous" Charles spits, cheeks growing somehow more red. He looks like he was a balloon about to burst. Jasper would have said he looked like a monkey's hind quarters, but even though Jasper is one day to become Lucas's Beta, he is still not allowed at these functions yet. Not that Jasper would have come anyway- sober at least. Best not to tempt fate. "Reports of rogue activity have been growing more and more frequent and more and more violent. Starkbee said his pack faced two separate instances in Maine and Lavigne said his have also spotted three different beasts on his pack land, each having to be chased away before they would leave! We must send out patrols to seek out these brutes and have them taken care of before they cause any more damage!"                                                                                

         "Sit down, Fairweather, and stop making an ass of yourself" Jasper's father rolls his eyes. Lucas bit back a grin. Adam often rides Jasper about how snarky he is but it seems that apple doesn't fall far from the tree. "Those are all common occurrences with rogues and none of them were violent- they ran with their tail between their legs as soon as they saw pack members advance. Stop trying to wage a war when there hasn't even been a battle."                                                                                                                                

        "There is a war going on now!" Charles roars. He tends to get over excited in meetings; Lucas is certain he just likes to hear himself talk and has fantasies as himself as Alpha, finally getting to act out on all his wild impulses and dramatics. "Every moment we are at war with those creatures! They were thrown from their packs and now they seek revenge!"                                                                                                                           "They are still people- of a sort" Alpha Johnathan says diplomatically. "Just as we are. Though they have made many harsh mistakes that have stripped them of their ranking and cast them out of their pack, they still think and feel. They are still apart of what we are. And we can not wage war against them out of fears that have not yet been proven valuable."  His voice is even and strong, leaving no room for doubt. Still, he turns to Lucas with a questioning gaze, his tone thoughtful. "What do you think, my son?"                                  

        All eyes fall on Lucas.                                                                                                                                             

        He swallows. Though he knows his father doesn't mean it to be, Lucas knows this was a test. As he has grown and continued to grow closer and closer to his ascension to Alpha, his father has tried to prepare him for that responsibility by allowing him to come to important meetings and help make small decisions here and there in regards to pack matters. But this- this is something much bigger than his opinion on pack trainings or policies such as curfews. His father wants his opinion on a matter of great importance: whether to act or hold steady.                 

        Personally, he thinks his father is right. While pack members-no more become that way as a result of extreme crimes, he understands that they are still thinking and feeling people, cast out of their homes and families. Most become full humans, living and working in the mortal world, marrying humans and having human children. Most never look back at their past. These are considered humans after time has passed. Rogues, however, are a different matter. They are pack members thrown from their packs and families as a result of crimes but do not accept their new human futures. Instead, they continue to shift (which became more and more painful over time) and live savagely like wolves, refusing to accept they are no longer a child of the Moon Goddess.                                                                                                                       

        More often than not, rogues stay away, content in their slow dissolve into shame and insanity, but some lash out at their former packs and cause even more pain and anguish than before. It is rare and happens little but it is still a growing concern for established packs who worried for the safety of their members. Even outnumbered, werewolves are fast and strong and, driven by insanity, can do more damage than a whole pack of typical wolves. Some, like Charles Fairweather, remain determined to simply eradicate all threats, even nonexistent. Lucas has a feeling that if Charles had it his way, instead of casting a pack member out, he would rather a death penalty instead and cut out the middle man.                       

But despite past crimes, there are those out there that have straightened up their lives after being cast out and who even wander the land as wolves savagely, but do not cause harm to any humans or other packs. Waging war would only hurt people who were, in this case, innocent.                                                                    

        Lucas meets his father's eyes. "Don't wage war against the rogues. There hasn't been any violence and we do not need to start something against people who have already lost everything. If there is that big a concern, post small patrols around the border of the pack lands but do not send them out in search of bloodshed. Have them only engage if they are met with violence. If violent action begins to take place and puts lives in danger, we come back and reassess the situation."                                                                                

        Despite his nerves, he speaks as his father taught him, with calm authority, shoulders back and head high. The authoritative speaking of someone born to lead. Lucas has long ago learned how to hide his insecurities and doubts, hiding them behind an expressionless mask of indifference. No one could know he was internally wilting, wondering if he had made the right call, wondering if he was risking more lives than saving.                                                                                                                                                                      

         To his relief, he sees his father give an approving nod, a tiny smile at the corners of his lips. Lucas had been correct. "Very well. You have your orders. Adam, set up a small patrol for rotation-"                                    

        "You can't be serious!" Charles bursts. The room immediately falls silent. "You are going to listen to the arrogant opinions of a child- one that has no true experience in leadership or battle- over that of your advisors? You would rather have the blood of innocents on your hands and listen to this foolish boy's-"             

        "Speak your next words very carefully, Fairweather" Alpha Johnathan says quietly. The temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees as a cold, stone-like expression spreads over his face, eyes darkening to an angry black as he stares menacingly at Charles. Lucas's father does not have to raise his voice or throw things to appear threatening. In fact, it is only when he becomes quiet and cold does one have need to be scared of Lucas's father. It is when he is quiet that you knew he is angry and one does not want to anger the Alpha of the Ileana pack. It is a mistake few have ever made and even fewer have ever survived. There is a reason Lucas's father has never been challenged for his place as Alpha.                                                               

        Lucas watches as the red drains from Charles's face, filling him with a ghostly-white fear. Though he is loud and arrogant and seems to crave violence, Charles is no warrior. At the first sign of violence, ironically, he will back down, especially in regards to his Alpha. "My-my apologies, Sir" Charles swallows. "I misspoke." He sits back in his seat without another word and Lucas glances to see Adam Bloom hiding a triumphant smirk.                                                                                                                                                       

        Alpha Johnathan nods. "I thought as much." In an instant, he is once again the same serene, easy-going man Lucas has always known. He smiles at his advisors down the table and rises. "I think with that we are done. Adam, set up the patrol and Matthews, get me that report before the end of the day, please."              

        There is a murmur of assent and "thank you, sir"s as the advisors and Jasper's father move to leave. Lucas tries not to take satisfaction watching Charles Fairweather dart from the room like a spooked horse.                             

        "Well," Lucas's father speaks as the door shuts. "That was an interesting meeting." His voice is light and amused, as if Charles's disrespect had meant nothing.                                                                                              

        Lucas stands from his chair with a small smile. "They always are, aren't they?"                                                   

        His father chuckles, walking from the meeting table to the back of the office, where the room opens up to a rounded wall made up mainly of glass, sits behind a large mahogany desk covered in papers, folders and small picture frames. In one of the picture frames Lucas stands at sixteen years old in his Quarterback football jersey, an arm thrown over his father's shoulder as they both laughed over some forgotten joke. In another, Lucas stands before the graduation stage, holding up his Valedictorian award certificate. There are no pictures of Lucas's mother.                                                                                                                                    

         "Charles is a stubborn goat" Alpha Johnathan says with a shake of his head. "He is so sure of himself that he knows better than anyone else and anyone who opposes him is a fool." His father sighs. "But there is a reason the Goddess did not choose Charles for the position of Alpha. He is far too bull-headed and trigger-happy."                                                                                                                                                           

         "Then why do you allow him to sit as an advisor? His opinions don't exactly seem welcome" Lucas asks as he takes a seat before the desk, propping his foot up on his knee. When it is just his father, he can relax. Slightly. There is no one watching his every move, judging him on his actions or opinions or whatever legacy they have built of him in their heads. He can simply be a teenager spending time with his dad.                                       

His father shrugs, settling into his chair. He, too, seems to relax in the absence of others and Lucas can see the exhaustion hiding in his gaze. "It is always good to have someone who worries. They express problems or possible outcomes no one else would think of, so one is always prepared in case something dreadful does happen. Charles is a hot-head but in the end he does have real concerns. He just wants to keep us safe, in his own demented way. It is best to keep those concerns in mind even if they seem foolish at the moment."                                     

        Lucas hesitates. "And my concerns? Do you think what I chose was the right action?"                                     

        His father nods, a tired smile spreading over his face. "Yes, son. It is the same plan of action I would have chosen." There is clear pride in his tone and Lucas internally melts. To Lucas, who feels his father is by far the best Alpha who has ever led their pack, there is no higher praise than hearing he has acted exactly how his father would have. "Relax, Lucas. Remember that you have been trained your entire life for this. You know both in your mind and your heart what the right choices to make are and you know what is important: compassion, wisdom despite emotion, strategy and leadership. These are all things you have learned throughout your lifetime and I have no doubt you will make an excellent Alpha. Far better than myself."                                                                                                                                                                           

        Lucas can't imagine such a thing to be possible but smiles despite himself. "Thank you, Sir. You have no idea what that means to me."                                                                                                                                    

        His father smiles. "Good. Now, go see your mother; she requested a word with you after the meeting." Lucas wishes it is his imagination but knows the sudden sad tone in his father's voice is real regarding Lucas's mother. His father always sounds a little sadder when he speaks of his Luna.                                                

        Lucas's smile becomes a little more forced but he holds it as he stands. "Of course. I'll see you for dinner tonight."                                                                                                                                                                        

        His father nods but says nothing more as Lucas leaves. Is it his imagination or did his father look pained as he left? Lucas tries to shake the thought away as he leaves his father's office.                                                 

        All important rooms and offices are held on the final floor of the Pack House. As far as Lucas has heard, it is normal for the Alpha and Luna to either share an office or have two offices that are adjoined so the two can work closely together on important pack matters. His parents, however, hold offices on opposite sides of the Pack House, his father's in the West Wing next to Lucas's room and his mother's all the way in the East Wing. No one ever has pointed out or questioned the difference, thankfully, but Lucas can't help but wonder sometimes if his parents had chosen their offices far from each other by coincidence or if they had meant to be far enough from each other so they would never have to run into each other.                                                          

        Lucas knocks on the door to his mother's office and takes a breath. He isn't sure what it is his mother wants to talk about but for some reason he feels nervous.                                                                           

        "Come in" a soft, sing-song voice chimes.                                                                                                                

        Lucas's mother's office is similar to his father's, though the color scheme is much brighter and more decorative. The walls are a brilliant honey-gold with white trim, the floors a light polished brown stretching to the back wall made up of glass, though the desk is smaller and more elegant, carved in swirling patterns of lighter and darker woods, the top much more organized in sets of folders and delicate glass paper-weights. There are no pictures along the desk but instead in large ornate frames, all of Lucas ranging from toddler years (there is one where he is shirtless wearing a pair of goggles over his head) to adolescence (there is the day Lucas shifted for the first time, grinning from ear to ear) to a few of him in high school, the most recent of him on the football field.                                                                                         

         Like a mother, almost all the pictures are of Lucas as a small child.                                                               

        Behind the desk sits a petite woman of extreme grace and elegant round features, her long tumbling mane of blonde curls falling to frame a delicate heart-shaped face and wide chocolate brown eyes. "Lukie" She grins and stands, walking around her desk to hug her son. Lucas is nearly two feet taller than her but she stretches up onto her toes, wrapping her arms around his neck. She pulls back to look at him. "My, my, I swear you get taller every day."                                                                                                                           

        She is dressed in a navy blue pencil skirt and pink and blue flowered blouse, her pale white wedges adding only a few more inches to her already small frame. Had it not been for the few frown lines etched into her forehead, she could have been the same age as Lucas. "I was hoping to get a word with you after the meeting with your father" She says as she walks back around her desk, taking her seat. She is much better at hiding her tone regarding Lucas's father but Lucas can still hear a small edge in her voice, something that can not be hidden from the ears of someone who knows her so well.                                           

        "Sure, Mom. What's going on?" Lucas asks. He sits across from her and accepts a cookie, grinning as she takes two for herself. She has always had a sweet tooth.                                                                                     

        "Well, first off how did your meeting go? Did Charles fly off the handles again?"                                              

        Lucas rolls his eyes. "He and Jasper's dad almost got into a fight. Dad had to break it up. Charles thought my opinion wasn't exactly reliable."                                                                                                              

        Luna Sophie raises an eyebrow at that. "Your father asked your opinion?"                                                      

        He shrugs. "He actually let me make the decision about what to do about the rogues."                              

        "And what did you advise?"                                                                                                                                

         "To set up border patrols but do not send them out actively to seek bloodshed. Only have them engage if they are met with violence."                                                                                                                                    

        Lucas's mother nods approvingly, wearing a small smile. "That is exactly what your father would have done. You are becoming more and more like him every day. I am sure you will make an excellent leader when your time comes. But-" she sighes- "that is not why I asked you to visit me today. We have far more important things to discuss."                                                                                                                                    

         Her face becomes serious as she leans forward, stretching her hand out to take Lucas's. "Lukie," She begins gently. Her wide eyes are remarkably soft, her gentle tone the tone only a worried mother could possess. "How are you doing? With all of this Masquerade business? I know you must feel nervous at the very least."

Her expression is the expression of a mother: soothing and comforting, offering only kindness and no judgement. Lucas knows without her saying that anything he says now will not leave the two of them and, if he admits his fears, she will not belittle him for them. She will only offer him her wisdom and advice.                                  

        Still, Lucas can not meet his mother's eyes. Despite his and Jasper's upcoming departure in only two days time, he has tried his best not to think about the ball at all. Between all of the meetings his father has been letting him sit in on and all the reports and patrols he is helping to organize, it is easy to busy himself and avoid thoughts of all that might be coming. In truth, he is both more excited and terrified than he has ever been in his entire life. He is thrilled to finally meet his soul mate, the future love of his life, the mother of his children, and know what it is like to experience the mate bond and what it will feel like to always have someone there for him, good or bad.                                                                                       

        But, as he has experienced watching his parents relationship, he knows that not all mates are meant to be perfect. Some are meant to be lessons. Some are only meant to last a short time before one lost their everything... And what if this girl Lucas is destined for is only to become one more person he has to put on a show for? One more person he has to always act strong, confident and sure around no matter how he truly feels on the inside? What if she only cares for him because of the title that comes along with him? What if she sees him at first glance and rejectes him?                                                                                                            

        The idea makes Lucas go cold all over. There would be no end to the shame he would face if his mate rejected him. His reputation would be ruined in the eyes of those that looked up to him. Worse, he isn't sure he would ever recover from such agony. All his life he has tried to be everything he could possibly be for everyone from his mother and father to the children he will one day lead. What would happen if he can't be everything he needed to for the one person he is destined for? How could he possibly be a good Alpha and leader for his people if he couldn't be a good partner for the one person he is supposed to be soul mates with?                                                                            

         "It's difficult because I'm not sure how to feel" Lucas says finally. "I want to feel excited. This is something I've been waiting for my entire life. At the same time, it is not only a mate I'm gaining. Soon I will be Alpha, I'll have a bride and mate- my whole life will have changed in such a short time...I've been preparing for this my whole life but it feels as if it's all happening in only a matter of days. And I'm not sure..."                                                                                   

        I'm not sure I will be the mate and husband she deserves. I'm not sure I will be the Alpha everyone expects me to be. I'm not sure I will live up to any of the expectations anyone has set for me.                                                

        Lucas's mother squeezes his hand. "No one is ever meant to be sure during this time in their life, Honey. This is the point in your life where everything begins to change. You're learning who you are and who you hope to become. All you can do is have faith in the Goddess above and have hope. And know that no matter what, your father and I will be here to support you no matter what happens."                                                             

There is deep emotional feeling in his mother's words and Lucas knows without a doubt that she is being honest. This will no doubt be a very difficult time for his parents, as seeing Lucas with his mate will certainly be salt in their never-healing wounds. It will remind them so much of everything they both have lost and Lucas feels a sense of guilt, not wanting his parents to endure that. Each day his mother and father both face the struggle of having to rise from bed each day after having fallen asleep next to, essentially, a stranger. Every time they look at one another they are reminded that the person they lie beside is not the person they are meant for.       

        Lucas tries for a smile and squeezes her hand back. "Thank you, Mom. I will remember that."                                                                                                                                                                                                 ~*~*                                                                                                                                                                         

        The ballroom is a magnificent sight to behold. Tall, arching walls draped in fine garland and dripping candles, glittering chandeliers and rich velvet tapestries. White marble columns stand tall with the crest of different packs, the polished floors packed with long tables flooded with red velvet and decadent foods. Carter can feel the press of warm bodies all around, dancing and whispering as they move in time with the music, almost like a soft breeze throughout the warm ballroom.                                                                                          

        She knows without question each guest is dressed to perfection, hair and clothes immaculate for such an important occasion. Every pack member of age will be present tonight. Everyone excited for their destinies, ready to find that one missing piece. But every face Carter passes all seemed blurred and out of focus, easily passing out of her notice as she moved through the crowds-                                                                                       

"That's the Dawson girl" A whispery voice suddenly hisses.                                                                                

        Carter swings around, looking for the source of the voice but instead finds all eyes suddenly on her, sharp and mocking, following her every movement. Every beautiful person, every sneering smile, every snide smirk, every pointed whisper about her past, all aimed at her with growing malice as the warm swell of bodies suddenly grows suffocating. In an instant, there are people everywhere, pressing in from every angle, their leers, scowls and glares swirling around her in a vortex as the storm of voices grows louder and louder, threatening to burst Carter's eardrums.              

         "That's the broken girl."                                                                                                                                        

        "I heard she can't shift."                                                                                                                                         

        "I heard she can't even use the pack link."                                                                                                             

         "That's the one that killed-"                                                                                                                         

         "Her mother-"                                                                                                                                                      

         "Dead mother-"                                                                                                                                                   

        The bodies grow more claustrophobic, pushing until Carter is knocked to the ballroom floor, tears streaming down her face as she struggles to cover her ears. But no matter how she tries, she can't drown out the voices, one in particular growing to a banshee's screech.                                                                                   "Murderer Murderer Murderer Murderer Murderer Murderer Murderer- "                                                   

        Carter feels a scream claw it's way up her throat, ripping through her chest just as everything goes dark-            

        There is a loud knock on the door just as Carter bolts awake, gasping for breath. She looks wildly around her room to see the ballroom gone, replaced by her familiar books and clothes haphazardly thrown around the room. Tears still trace their way down her cheeks and she can feel her heart still slamming into her chest as if determined to slam free from her body.                                                                        

        Taking a few deep breaths, she runs a trembling hand through her wild hair, sitting up in bed as another loud knock echoes. "Morning, Sunshine!" Joey calls from outside. His voice is annoyingly chipper and loud. "Time for Cinderella to head to the ball!"


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