Enslaved by the Alpha: Part Six

Author:Rivard, Viola [Rivard, Viola]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Viola Rivard
Published: 2015-12-01T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIVE

A new phenomenon in her life was Astrid’s awareness that she was dreaming. It had begun during the repetitive onslaught of nightmares that had occurred after the attack on the campsite, nightmares that had now been usurped by Sabine, lording over her as Astrid drowned. Only in her nightmares, Ila never came to save her and Astrid never managed to free herself from the death grip of the icy water, because despite knowing that she was dreaming, she was powerless to change anything. In many ways, it made her nightmares all the more terrifying. Until daybreak, she was a hostage, and there was nothing that she could do about it.

Tonight, she didn’t immediately recognize that she was dreaming. She was sitting in Sten’s room, as she did almost every day, in a circle with her “friends.” Halley was braiding the long tuft of hair on the top of Noona’s head. Ila and the other women were staring at Astrid, their lips pressed thin and their faces screwed up as though they’d just bitten into lemons.

She knew she was dreaming when she looked down. Her belly was big and round, not impossibly large, but the cute, shoplifting-a-basketball look that only maternity store mannequins and sitcom mothers-to-be could pull off. Gingerly, she placed a hand right above her puckered belly button and stroked. Something inside of her moved, and she wasn’t sure if it was a baby, or her entire being simply settling into place as a profound sense of contentment washed over her. She looked up at the other women, unable to repress her ear-to-ear grin.

Ila blinked slowly and shook her head. “How many times do I have to tell you? You’re not pregnant, you’re just fat.”

Astrid’s head shot back down, and she saw that Ila was right. The basketball had deflated, and there was nothing except waves of loose cellulite. Astrid brought her hand to her mouth as a low whine escaped.

She heard Pocahontas whisper, “That’s what happens when you start to go through m-e-k-n-o-w-p-a-w-s.”

Halley said, “That’s not how you spell menopause.”

When Astrid looked up again, everything was dark. Faint orange light filtered in through the navy blue walls, and outside, the shadow of a wolf prowled. She was in her tent, the one she’d hauled on her back, through countless kilometers of open tundra.

It was almost a relief to be back at the campsite. At least this nightmare was familiar to her. In a few seconds, she would open her tent flap and step outside. She would see the dismembered corpses of the human men, and would stand, utterly vulnerable, as the wolves closed in on her. Sometimes, Erik would be with them, and he would rip her apart. Sometimes, he’d be watching from a distant hill, and she hoped it wasn’t one of those nights, because they were the worst of all. Those nights, she always felt a thrill of hope when she spotted him. But when she called out to him, he would only gaze back, no flicker of affection or recognition in his blue eyes.

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