Too Beautiful for the Alpha

November 30th, 1991

I cannot leave my bedroom. I cannot face him. I have lost my baby. My baby has slipped between my fingers, leaving me forever, never to come back. I feel empty. James feels empty. He has tried speaking with me, but I have nothing to say. There is nothing I want to say anymore. The doctor says that many women have miscarriages and it should not stop me from trying again, but there is a cloud of discouragement over my head. It floats there, never to go away. I want my baby. Goddess, please. I need my baby.

December 1st, 1991

I feel sad today. I feel sad every day. I want my baby back. Please, please, Goddess give me my child.

December 5th, 1991

James says we can try again when I am ready, but I know she will take my baby again. She took my baby and I will never forgive her.

James tells me that I need time to heal. I love him. It is soon but I know I love him. He has hurt me, but I love him. Is that why she took my baby? Because I am a weak woman in her eyes?

I close the diary and regret having opened it in the first place. I get up from my bed and set the diary back on my desk, not wanting to think about Julianna's pain. I wish I could travel back and tell her that she doesn't have to be discouraged because one day she would have a son, one day she would have a child.

Since I have been home, bored and lonely, my daydreams have grown from wishful thoughts to intricate, imaginary parts of my life. Some of them are with James, and some of them are not. Those are the frightening ones, the ones where I am wrinkled and alone, sitting in this house day by day, never leaving, never dying, just existing with no purpose. No mother, no mate, no child to care for. Nothing. And I think about this often which causes me to scold myself for not making any friends. I should have sat with those people at the table or chatted with that possible Stacey more, but no.

My mother has been telling me about a boy she thinks I should meet. I told her off, angry, upset, flaming up to my room only to lock myself in and hide. The idea of meeting a boy makes me physically sick.

The boy's name is Noah and he is my age. He is my mother's friend's son and my mother will not stop mentioning him. I told her that I have no interest in meeting anyone, but she is persistent. She has invited her friend and the boy over for dinner tonight, and I swore that I wouldn't come down from my room like a stubborn child. I swore that I will never meet this boy if it is the last thing I do.

What am I scared of?

Losing my one chance, I suppose. Losing James, my one and only mate. The person who was never supposed to exist, the person who shunned me, who showed a hint of love then pushed me away for my own benefit. Would he think me weak if I told him that after everything he has done, I didn't want to leave? I wanted to stay and work through this, fix the mistakes made, give forgiveness and move on if he was willing? Does that make me weak? Did forgiving James make Julianna weak?

inside. Is that me? Am I labeling myself as strong only to mask that I am

my mother opens it and peeks inside. "They'll be here any minute. Can you get

up at her. "I already told you

acting like this. It's been weeks,

as that familiar feeling of betrayal fumes up. I sit up swiftly. "Time to move on? Time to move

your mate," she interrupts,

this obnoxious room out the window. I need to scream and stomp my feet and cry about how he is still my mate, he's my mate, he didn't reject me, he is still

hurt and anger in her eyes before she turns her back on me and returns downstairs. I hear the doorbell ring and I can't help but swing the door shut, not wanting to hear a word from any of them. I have to calm

front door, forcing the mother and son to part. My mother voice calls after me, but I continue to run off towards the trees. Once I am covered and alone, I take a deep

hurts a bit due to the fact that it's been awhile, but when the missed feeling of my fur against the breeze and my paws in the dirt return to

time. My father and I used to go on runs together when I was young. He would take me off of pack territory to go down to the lake just a mile away, and there we would swim and I would tell him things that I could never tell my mother. I didn't whine about how I'll never have a Mate, but I told him that I was unsure about my future, where I would end up. He told me not to worry

need is to do my best and see where I'll end up. I just have to follow my heart, follow what

of my life, and I will do what I want

more minutes, I return to my clothes and shift back, slipping them on and heading towards the

room. My mother must have heard

a deep breath before going to her. "Yes?" I ask while appearing in front of them, scanning over the strangers

smiles at me with a hidden frustration behind it that

light brown hair and dark brown eyes, his skin more tan than pale. Even though he is sitting, it is clear that he is tall. He's just like the others, the people I grew up with who all seemed to be perfect. He is one of the boys at the gathering who I see dancing with many girls who aren't his mate. I don't smile back and I can't help

I say blandly, not

You're mother's told us about your trip to see a friend at another pack and we've been waiting to finally put a face to the

to, but it's good to be home." My mother looks at me with satisfaction. "I should get cleaned up." My clothes were dirtied by the

my mother says, "come back down when you're