An Enemy Called Mate

XANDER

Lance swept his golden hair out of his eyes and tilted his head, as if in slow motion. “I understand,” he said, before moving out of my room.

After he left, I collapsed onto my bed and let out a long sigh. Darkness began to creep in at the edges of my vision since I wanted to sleep and prepare for what awaited me the next morning.

However, my thoughts kept racing, keeping me awake.

I tossed and turned, my mind spinning in circles. I closed my eyes and tried to slow my breathing, hoping that sleep would come.

But no sooner had I closed my eyes than they fluttered open again.

I felt restless. Sitting up on my bed, my wolf, Maz, spoke to me with a teasing voice. “So, are you still thinking about that Ziva girl?”

I snapped at Maz, my patience wearing thin. “Cut it out. You’re not helping. I’m trying to sleep.” Maz just laughed, and I knew it was useless to try to get him to stop.

With a resigned sigh, I withdrew myself to follow the rabbit hole of thoughts in my head. I should check what my mind has been pondering about instead.

I rose from my bed and walked over to the wall on my left. Gently, I placed my hand against the cool stone surface, feeling the familiar click of the security check. Then, the wall began to move, sliding open to reveal a small, dark room that I had never entered for some years now.

A cloud of dust drifted into the air as the wall opened, tickling my nose and making me want to sneeze.

I pinched my nose to try to stop the sneeze that was threatening to escape. With a loud ‘achoo!’, the sneeze burst out of me, shaking the dust from the webs on the walls and causing it to drift down like a soft, powdery snow.

In the dim light, my eyes darted around the room, finally landing on a small lamp in the corner.

My fingers fumbled for the switch of the lamp, and with a flick of my wrist, I turned it on.

The light illuminated the room in a dim glow, revealing the thick spiderwebs enveloped across the walls, hanging from the ceiling, and covering the frames and boxes in the corner.

As I looked around the room, a realization struck me: The restlessness I had been feeling might be caused by the nightmares I’d been having about the memories locked away in this room.

Knowing fully well that I locked most of the memories in a box I kept. I approached a large brown box in the corner. Its once-rich color had faded over time, and the wood was now covered in a thick layer of dust.

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I didn’t bother cleaning the box, knowing that I’d lock it away again soon.

“Why are you here? You promised to not return to this awful place,” Maz spoke inside my head.

I couldn’t stop myself. I needed to see what was inside again.

“I have to. I can’t stop thinking about her,” I replied, my voice firm.

Swiftly, I opened the box, with the lid giving a loud, creaky groan. Dust erupted into the air. I coughed, waving my hand in front of my face to clear the air.

As I opened the box, a stack of photographs spilled out onto the floor. I picked up the photos, and my eyes landed on a small one in the middle. It was a picture of a female with long, dark hair and deep brown eyes. She was smiling, but the smile seemed sad and forced.

I ran my fingers over the picture, and her brown eyes seemed to bore into me. I felt a lump in my throat at that moment. Heaving a sigh, I looked up and muttered, “I’ve had enough punishment. You don’t have to appear in my nightmares.”

Staring at the same photograph, I pushed it back into the box, but something caught my eye. I pulled it out again, and took a peek at the photograph.

Squinting my gaze at the back of the picture. There, in a neat, slanted handwriting, was a name written in caramel-colored ink: ‘Dottore Eugene’ (Doctor Eugene).

“Was she sick before the war started?” I wondered aloud.

“You know how friendly Rose was,” Maz replied. “Maybe the doctor was a friend.”

I shook my head, not convinced. Something about the handwriting, the odd expression on her face in the photograph, and the way she’d hidden it made me uneasy.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Rose had been persistent in talking to me before the war began, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it was about.

Who was Doctor Eugene? I’d never heard the name before. My mind raced, trying to make sense of it all.

Finally, I decided to mind-link Lance, hoping that he could shed some light on the situation.

“Lance, do you know of a doctor named Eugene in the pack?” I mind-linked Lance.

“Alpha, there are tons of doctors with the last name Eugene,” Lance began, but I cut him off.

“I need a list of all the doctors named Eugene, and I need to know if any of them are connected to Rose!” I ordered.

“Rose?” Lance’s voice trailed off, his voice tinged with curiosity. “You mean Rose-”

I interrupted, “Rose Collins. I need the list by morning. And be thorough.”

“Alright, Alpha,” Lance responded quickly, meanwhile, I returned the photograph I held to the box. My heartbeat fastened at that moment, and I paced back and forth, restless, and anxious.

What was Rose hiding from me?

I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to piece two and two together. Rose and I had been close, so why would she hide something from me? My thoughts swirled, racing through memories and emotions. I couldn’t help but think back to the past, the memories as painful as fresh wounds.

She died, mum died, all because of that f*cking Darwin! Thank Goddess that he didn’t appear at the party, I would have done worse than I planned to do.