MATED TO THE ALPHA AND HIS BETA - Season 5 Episode 81

Stella

I slept late the next morning. By the time I got up, morning sun was slanting brightly through the window of my attic room. I watched the dust motes dancing in the beams for a long time. If I concentrated, I could see right inside them, like each was a tiny little planet all on their own. I imagined each one filled with civilizations, rising and falling. Maybe on one of them, a tiny Celestial, all alone in her bed, was looking at the dust motes in her own sunbeam…

“Gah.” I sat up, shaking off those feelings. I was about to get lost in my mind. Maybe so deep I wouldn’t be able to get out.

Anyway, my stomach was rumbling. It seemed impossible that I could be hungry with my heart so heavy, but…no matter how many supernatural talents I could use, I was still in this body, and apparently, this body needed to eat on a regular basis.

I’d left my clothes from the night before in a pile on the floor. They stank of sweat and spilled beer, with the faintest hint of the other odors that had filled The Silver Crescent. I wrinkled my nose but tossed them into the hamper. I wasn’t sure what to do about washing them.

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Here was another thing I was having to learn about skipping from childhood right to adulthood—was I going to have to do my own laundry?

I showered quickly, brushed my teeth, and dressed in a pair of flowered leggings with a long tunic top. I paired this outfit with the same ballet flats from the night before. The mirror told me I looked cute, but I didn’t feel it. I looked tired.

Not feeling like putting on makeup, I used a little bit of energy to pink up my cheeks and darken my eyelashes. Nothing too obvious, but at least I didn’t look hungover anymore. I didn’t want to have to

explain to my parents why my face was so haggard and drawn.

I could smell something good wafting from the kitchen as I went downstairs. I followed my nose along the corridors, past closed doors, pausing to peek into any rooms with open ones. I could’ve dug into the minds of the various staff members passing me on their way to their duties, or even into my Dad’s or Papa’s, but I was trying not to overextend myself. Using powers on people without their knowledge felt icky, but especially when it wasn’t for their benefit, but only for mine.

Was I ever going to figure out how all of this was supposed to work? Shaking my head, I peered into an open room that featured floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. It also had a nice fireplace, no fire lit now, and a set of cozy looking armchairs facing it. Tall windows let in a lot of light, but sheer curtains diffused it, making it soft. I stepped inside to take a closer look and let out a slow breath.

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It was the library from inside my head. Right down to the scrolled woodwork on the arms of the chairs and the floor lamp with the stained-glass shade. With my mouth open in wonder, I went to the shelves and studied the books. I ran my finger along the spines.

The books here were different, anyway. Which made sense, since in my head, the books were a construct I’d imagined as a way of helping to catalog and coordinate the myriad of supernatural powers I could access. Here, they were just books. Novels, non-fiction, even a few photo albums.

Intrigued, I pulled an album off the shelf and flipped through it. I recognized my grandma Gabriela right away, even though she looked so much younger. She was smiling, happy, her arm linked through a man’s. That must be my grandfather, Orion. I studied him closely. He didn’t look evil.

Frowning, I flipped through more pages. Pictures of my Daddy when he was a pup made me giggle. I could see myself in those pictures. I traced the lines of his face for a moment, imagining what it might have been like if I’d been born a normal pup.

Strangely, the photos comforted me in a way the Moon Goddess’s words from the night before hadn’t quite managed. I might stumble through social encounters, but these pictures and the resemblance I shared with my father showed me that I did belong here in Constantine. It was my lineage. My home.

“Oh, shit. Sorry. Didn’t know anyone was in here.”

I turned at the rasping female voice and saw Aunt Selena in the doorway. She carried a carafe that smelled like coffee and an empty mug. Dark sunglasses covered her eyes, and her hair was wet like she’d come right out of the shower. She wore a plain T-shirt and a pair of fuzzy pajama bottoms emblazoned with cartoon characters, along with a matching set of bunny slippers.

“I was trying to hide from my sister,” she said.

Quickly, I moved around her to close the door. I locked it. Turned back.

“Yeah,” I said. “Me too.”