Rise of the Dark Alpha

~ SASHA ~

She held her breath when Zev stepped in, clinging to him. And as they passed through that unseen barrier, she felt as if her entire skin was being pulled, as if some intangible force tried to tear her away from him.

But her chest throbbed. Literally throbbed. Not with pain, but with heat and a prickling sense of grip. Traction.

She'd wrapped her arms around his neck, closed her eyes, and leaned into that hollow under his chin, so it took a few seconds for her to realize when they'd actually made it.

Sasha blinked her eyes open. Zev's breath was heavy in her ear. Panting, almost. But from stress, not effort.

She looked around. The rippling walls of the Gateway, curving over her head like clear, aqua-colored diamond surface, each facet a ripple as if in water, but unmoving. And it pulsed. A low light, dim and general—from the center of everything—rose and fell within it, like a heartbeat.

In time with her heartbeat, she realized—which was in time with Zev's.

"We did it!" she breathed, ecstatic.

Zev nodded and carefully dropped her legs so she could stand, but he was very careful to keep contact between them, taking her hand and holding it tightly as if someone was trying to pull them apart.

There was the slightest sensation still, she realized. A tugging. Not painful, but insistent. As if she would be torn from him if she let down her guard.

Sasha swallowed.

"We did it!" She put her free hand to her mouth and looked up at Zev, beaming.

He nodded, but his eyes were darting—his whole expression looked serious, his face pale and hard. He never stopped examining the walls.

"What's wrong?" she said, looking around. Was there some kind of threat he could sense that she couldn't? She leaned harder into his side.

"There's no light," he said. "I've been thinking about our son, about getting to him since we stepped through. But there's no light," he said. "There's always a light. Always—even if it's going somewhere you don't mean to go."

Sasha looked around, realizing he was right. Under her feet that soft glow rose and fell with their heartbeats. But there was no lighted path.

What was going on?

"Well," she said, licking her lips, "There's two of us. Maybe... maybe we have to be really specific and Sasha frowned, a niggling fear beginning in the back of her mind. Were those circumstances impossible? Had something happened to their son? Was he not—oh, Lord, was he—

make sure we're focusing on exactly the same thing?"

Zev's throat bobbed. "Okay. So... I'm thinking we want to arrive in the lab when our son has already been delivered. When the drama is done, but not a moment later than we have to. When the lab is empty if that's possible. And if not... when Nathan's there."

Sasha's stomach dropped to her toes. "Yes, yes, that's... that's exactly right."

They both stayed quiet, focusing, but no path lit up.

Sasha frowned, a niggling fear beginning in the back of her mind. Were those circumstances impossible? Had something happened to their son? Was he not—oh, Lord, was he—

"Zev, why isn't it lighting up?"

"I don't know. We're both here. But... maybe it won't let two people go through at the same time even if we can answer?"

"Do you... would you know the way to get to the human world? Even if it's wasn't the right place?"

"No, Sash. Never walk into the Gateway without a path. Never."

"What happens?"

"We don't know. But that's the point, right? We can't get lost—we can't lose each other. We have to... figure this out."

"Okay, okay, let's try again," she said. Her voice was getting higher, more desperate. She clung to his hand and turned to fully face the Gateway tunnel.

"Ten weeks from now, or close to that... our son is going to be independent of the... the technology they grew him in. We need to reach him as soon after that as possible. At a time when he's alone, or only Nathan is there. A time when we can take him without raising the alarm. Please!" she added instinctively but felt ridiculous. It seemed unlikely the Gateway was sentient.

They both held their breaths, but nothing happened.

Zev swore. Sasha wanted to weep.

"What are we going to do?" she cried. "Zev, if we can't reach him together, what are we going to do? If one of us dies—"

"We aren't dying today, Sasha. We'll figure something out."

But they both stood there, at a loss.

Sasha raked a hand through her hair and bit back tears. She refused to give in to despair, but it was clawing at her. How could they save their son if they couldn't get through the Gateway?

For the first time, she realized just how vulnerable their position really was.

Was this was Nick had been trying to warn them about? Was there a way for the humans to close it to them? Had Nick gone into The Gateway and gone ahead of them somehow and made...

She didn't even finish the thought. She couldn't let herself think they'd been thwarted that easily. The humans didn't know about the time-travel or the free Gateways.

Did they?

"This sucks!" she cried, looking up at Zev. "How... I mean, what are we..."

Zev's hand tightened on hers. He didn't meet her eyes, just glared at the Gateway. "I told you, Sash. I'm cursed," he said finally. "This obviously isn't meant to be. I'm going to go back. You go get him and bring him to me. And if... if the bond is broken by the Gateway, maybe.... Maybe we don't die, right? If we can't feel each other, maybe—"

"Stop!" Sasha screamed at him, yanking on his arm. "Just stop! You are not to blame for this!"

His jaw flexed and he looked down at their hands, obviously disagreeing with her, but unwilling to upset her more.

"Fuck, I hate this! I wish we could just go back to before all of this started and change everything! Change the whole damn thing!" she sobbed.

"Me too—" Zev started to say, when suddenly the Gateway lit up around them, blazing near-white.