Mika climbed up the tiled steps to the second-floor apartment. At the door he switched the paper bag he was carrying from his hand to underneath his arm so he could reach for his keys. They had slid deep into his pocket.

Through the door, he could hear the tv but couldn't make out which show she was watching. He hadn't called her beforehand, wanting to surprise her with her favourite fish sandwich from the deli. It had become her pregnancy craving though she severely disliked anything fishy.

He unlocked the door to their one-bedroom apartment and was met with the stench of stale garbage coming from their bin. He cursed himself for having left it there two days ago.

"Babe?" he called out. She'd normally meet him at the door whenever he came in. Mika checked the time on his phone. He left his suitcase at the door and set the paper bag down on the kitchen counter. "Babe," he called again. She would be awake by now usually, doing laundry or cleaning or cooking. The usual Sunday morning things with music pop music blasting through her phone speakers. There wasn't any music this morning. Was she still sleeping?

The sound of water spraying against the bathroom tile grew as he entered the bedroom. That must be why she couldn't hear. Showering so early was unlike her though. 8 o'clock in the morning? He knocked on the bathroom door that was ajar with steam emanating from the opening.

"Sherrice?" He called a little louder. He pushed on the door slightly. The shower glass was fogged up just like the bathroom glass. He could not make out her physique. The water must have been boiling.

He pulled back the shower door. Sherrice was on the shower floor hunched over with her head between her knees. He knelt down and stroked her head, a motion that always comforted her. When she didn't budge his heart rate quickened. He tapped her shoulder. Still no movement. Is she sleeping?

He turned off the shower. Her skin was the colour of overripe tomatoes. His fingers left white marks whenever he touched her. She would wake up despite him shaking her. He lifted her head up and her head rolled back. Mika stumbled back in horror. There was a giant deep slash through her throat.

"No, no, no," Mika cried. He collapsed to the floor. He crawled toward her. His hands shook as he patted her head. "No, my baby, no," he bawled. He kissed her forehead and rocked her side to side as he rubbed her stomach. "You're gonna be ok, you're gonna be okay."

With damp hands and foggy eyes, he took his phone from his pocket and dialled the police emergency number.

~~~~

It would be an eternity before the police showed up at the apartment. Mika had given them all the details he could about the address. Sirens were blaring outside the apartment but he didn't move. He didn't shift when they knocked on the door. He just held Sherrice and rubbed her head.

When they barged in the only thing they could do was drag his waling body out of the shower so they could process the crime scene. They'd questioned him thoroughly, he couldn't remember half of what they asked, nor could he answer clearly. His mind and body were in a state of numbness. They'd declared her and the baby dead was all he could fathom. Everything else was a blur.

He'd spent the next few days being questioned at the station. A routine check they said. It was just to rule out himself as a suspect. Though they didn't seem to be looking for anyone else. He'd told them where he was several times and what he was doing. He showed them proof of his flight also.

The security cameras outside of the apartment weren't working. None of the neighbours said they saw or heard anything. It was as if a ghost had taken her and the baby's life. They'd ruled it a homicide and the police seemed to work feverishly to find a suspect. An upset co-worker, client, and family member but none of them had motive and all had iron-clad alibis.

Days turned into weeks. Sleep was non-existent as the memory of finding her in the shower haunted him. He hadn't moved or changed anything in the apartment. The glass she drank water from was still on the kitchen counter. The garbage overflowed. Bags of baby clothes they'd bought were still in the shopping bag, waiting to be unpacked. He hadn't gone to work and no one came to visit him. He'd go down to the station almost every day. Hoping they'd have more information but the answer was always the same. They were doing the best they could.

After her and the baby's funeral, the news stopped reporting on it and the whole world moved on. Everyone except Mika.

~~~~

Mika scratched his itchy beard that had grown out while he flipped through the channels. He'd landed on one of Slherrice's favourite shows to watch, reruns of The Real Housewives. He'd never understood the entertainment value in women arguing over nonsense when the world was such a shitty place. Yet he sat and watched several back to back episodes.

When the most recent episode was about to air, there was a knock at the door. The sudden bang had made him jump. Could it be the police? Maybe they had information. He sprung up when they knocked again and opened the door. Mika had to blink several times to ensure this wasn't real.

"Hey son," Dean said in a warm tone. "How have you been?"

Mika stood frozen with his hand squeezing the door handle as if it were a crutch to stop him from falling. Dean stepped over the threshold and embraced him. The scent of rosemary enveloped him and his body relaxed into the hug. Dean patted him on the back.

"It's ok my boy, I know it is hard but it is ok,"

Mika shook his head, denying Dean's words. No, it's not ok. Mika pulled back.

"Why are you here?"

"I saw the story on the news and also read about it, what a shame," Dean shook his lowered head. "She was so beautiful, I cannot imagine-"

"Yes, she was," Mika answered. He vaguely remembered being interviewed, and cameras surrounding him at one point. That must have been the story Dean had seen.

The two were still standing in the doorway. Dean looked over Mika's shoulders, observing the dirty dishes, scoffed tile floor and the myriad of flies that swarmed the room. Dean brushed passed him into the kitchen. He was clad in a matching blue and purple dashiki that screamed extravagance and luxury.

"Is this how you have been living my boy?"

A sudden urge to clean up took over as he was in the presence of nobility. But he didn't move to touch anything. Instead being ashamed of the place. Sherrice would have cursed him inside and out if she knew the state of the apartment.

"You cannot live like this? You are royalty, Mika."

The word royalty fell on him like a ton of bricks pressing him down to the earth's centre. He hadn't heard anyone speak of royalty let alone the Alpha in centuries.

"No, I am not," Mika whispered. His shoulders slumped forward.

"Yes, you are!" Dean encouraged with outstretched hands.

"Why are you here Dean?"

Dean sat on the settee and crossed his legs. "Come have a seat, my boy." He patted the cushion beside him as it were his place.

Mika dragged his feet to the settee and slouched next to Dean.

"Now I know that you have renounced the role of Alpha. But I urge you to reconsider. The village, it needs a leader. Your brother was in line to be the next Alpha. But he is gone."

"Why do you need a new Alpha, my father is doing just fine," Mika rumbled.

Dean lowered his eyes before speaking "We need someone to take the throne once your father," he branched off. "I cannot tell you more. But once you take the throne, Mesuka will have more power"

Mika furrowed his brows."For what? You are the largest village in the country." He couldn't understand the urgent need to replace the Alpha.

"It's the rebels. They are building an army, teaming up with other villages. They see your father as weak."

Mika scoffed. He got up and walked toward the television that was still playing. Mika couldn't picture anyone seeing the Alpha as weak. Sure he walked with a cane now, but everything else was overflowing with power.

"You need to listen to me,"

"I don't have to listen to you, as a matter of fact, if all you came to do was convince me to come back, then you've wasted your time." Mika pointed toward the door. Dean didn't move. His eyelids lowered slightly and the gentle, father-like persona dwindled.

"Boy!" he said firmly. "Now is not the time to be stubborn. It is clear that the rebels know you and know where you live."

Mika's brows shot up to the top of his forehead. "What do you mean?"

"Do you know how your brother died?" Dean asked. The question slapped Mika in the face. He held onto the wall to stabilize himself.

"Why are you bringing that up?" Heat rose in Mika's chest. Blood pumped and spread through every inch of him so that he could feel the slightest movement of air around his fingertips.

Dean uncrossed his legs, leaned forward and interlocked his jewelled fingers. "He was found dead, in a hotel room."

Mika's mouth gaped.

"With his throat slashed, much like-"

"No, stop..." Mika said in a barely audible voice. His legs couldn't hold him up and he slid down the wall. He raked his hand through his hair as rage consumed him. Rebels? They killed my baby. Mika screamed a gut-wrenching scream that everyone in the city could hear. He tore out a few strands of his hair while banging his head against the concrete wall.

Dean knelt beside him and hugged his shoulders and held his head. "My boy, my boy, it's ok." Dean comforted him. "We can fight this, all the anger you have right now, you can use it."

Mika stopped. His heartbeat had suddenly slowed and his mind which had been a blur had cleared up like the sunlight cutting through the fog.

"How can I use it?" Mika already knew the answer but he wanted Dean to say it.

"By taking revenge on all that has been taken from you. By finally embracing the power you have within. By becoming the Alpha."