Alaska (Wolfstate Chronicles) door Bella Johnson
Alaska (Wolfstate Chronicles)
Beschrijving
One careless mistake could change the whole life. And Chloe Pryce knows it from her own experience. Leaving behind sunny California, she was forced to move to her father in rural Alaska where she was greeted by not just the frigid temperatures, but also the town's finest and fiercest boy; Grayson Holtz. Alaska has it's own dark secrets and Chloe - well she's about to get caught up in it all...
Hoofdstuk 1
Feb 23, 2026
Picturesque, the term used by some to describe the raw, wintry, glacial State. The place Chloe Pryce now called home. She'd been expecting cold, but not this and the cherry on top – she was only looking out the window of a plane.
Her iced over eyes blinked, taking in her new habitation. The wind gusted across the frozen tundra, sending snow every which way. She shuddered at the mere thought of someone agreeing to live in Polar, Alaska.
“Excuse me, Miss?” a flight attendant chirped from behind.
Chloe lifted her hand in a one moment gesture, not able to peel her eyes off outside.
“Miss, are you alright?” she spoke with concern, “We've arrived and are exiting the plane now.”
Chloe turned to her, the corner of her mouth twitched, “Yeah, I get it. Loud and clear.”
The woman lifted an eyebrow at her but Chloe didn't care, she had bigger issues to deal with – like her new life.
She got up out of the seat and grabbed her purse from the floor as the flight attendant stood in the isle, waiting. Leaving the plane quick, it was a lonely walk into the terminal.
She stopped and scanned the emptiness in front of her. No people. Well, some, but not like Los Angeles. These people were slow and strange and the only logical explanation for it, the plane had been sucked into another dimension.
And her pit of dimension-hell grew as he spotted her.
“Loe!”
She titled her head of straight auburn hair and took him in, her father; Henry William Pryce.
He was thinner, older, and paler. Of course, he still had his same dark brown hair and widow’s peak. Thankfully, he wasn't dressed in his uniform and she was praying the cruiser was absent too.
“Chloe!” he called out again, but he must have known she'd seen him. She was staring right at him.
She walked over with a sigh and he gave her a tight hug.
“Hi, Dad...” she managed to squeak out as he cemented her to his chest.
He smiled at her with their shared ice blue eyes, “How was the plane?”
“There were these annoying people beside me, they would not shut their mouths.”
He laughed and walked over to the moving luggage belt, “Well, at least you made it.”
“I suppose...” She mumbled.
The bags began to fling from the machine and Chloe hoped hers would be first, just in desperation to avoid further awkward conversation with her father.
She wasn't about to get lucky.
“Well, you look nice, Loe. I know you send me photos, but it's different seeing you.”
She glanced at him, “You too, though you're thinner.”
“Well, we don't eat a lot of junk out here. It's nice to naturally drop a few pounds.”
Her eyes glanced around to see if there was a food stand, it didn't sound like her dad had much at his house. Her luck was zapped again.
Her bags appeared and she went to grab them, but her father swooped in.
She let him and followed him towards the exit, preparing herself for catastrophic cold.
As soon as they got out the main door, her preparations were blown to smithereens. She was bombarded with a crisp wind that cut through her tanned skin and victimized her core.
“Holy! It's freezing!” she yelped.
Her dad laughed and walked towards an older beige truck.
She covered her face with her un-gloved hand and swore under her breath, “I'm going to die, I'm going to die here, Dad!”
“You'll get used to it,” he laughed as they walked through the deserted parking lot.
She wrapped her arms around herself and jumped from foot to foot, “Dad, doors! Come on!”
He unlocked them and threw her bags on the back seat as she dashed inside, clawing her way into the truck – near on her death bed. Her bottom lip jittered, her California clothes beat by Alaska already.
Her dad pulled out of the lot, which joined the highway right away.
“How... How do you live here?”
He glanced at her and turned up the heat, “Looks like you need some new clothes.”
She stared at him, “Y-you think?”
He smiled his crooked smile and looked back to the road, “Oh, Loe, you'll survive.”
She wrinkled her nose, “I r-really don't like that nickname, Dad.”
He ignored her dislike of the nickname, “Don't you think it's beautiful?” He pointed to the untouched mountain scape.
“Sure, whatever...” The shivering had worn off and she relaxed into the seat.
He smiled, “Well, you're enrolled in school. You start tomorrow.”
“Great...” Staring out her window.
“It's not as bad as you think.”
She shrugged, not convinced.
He clicked on the radio – getting the hint and they drove in silence, listening to the soft lulls of country music for the next forty minutes.
He pulled into a gas station around a bend, “Just going to fill up the truck. I don't like having less than half a tank.”
Chloe nodded, her eyes focusing on the chips and chocolate bars galore inside the store. She jumped out, trying to preparing herself, it hadn't worked.
“Dad!” She skipped around the vehicle, “I'm just g-going to get...”
“Henry!”
Her dad turned away, “Oh, hey, Roger!”
She peered around her dad to the approaching stranger of worn skin and grey hair. She had no interest in meeting him and booked it towards warmth.
Walking into the small run down store, she took a moment to let the numbing subside, checking her money situation. She stopped in front of the chocolate bars as she found ten dollars. That would suffice. Grabbing her three favourite, she moved on to chips.
The ding of the bell sounded as she pulled a bag of salt and vinegar into her arms. A gust of Alaskan wind hit her and she prickled with goosebumps.
She wiggled in her multi-sweater contraption from the uncomfortable sensation.
“Hey, man.”
She looked up to the sound of the deep voice across the store. Her eyes fixed on the back of the board shouldered, six foot huge boy at the counter. Watching, he pulled out his wallet from his back pocket, and she noticed how massive his hands were. Never having seen someone so cumbersome, she kept staring like he was side-show freak.
“How's it going, Grayson?” said the older man at the register.
“It's alright...” He twisted around, his eyes connecting with hers. His moment of hesitation caused a bile in her stomach to rise as his brow creased.
Her eyes snapped back to the chips, grabbing another bag and adding it to her stash.
“What was the total on the diesel?”
Still listening to his deep voice, she did not dare to look at him. After the look he'd given her, it left her bothered. She became determined to give him it back.
With a steadfast step to the counter, she threw down her items and bumped his large arm with her slender shoulder.
He grunted, “Hi.”
In an involuntary action, her eyes met his, “Uh...” She took in his height, her five foot six stance pathetic next to him.
Handing cash to the cashier, he kept his gaze with her. The same tightening goosebumps plagued her as he said thanks to the man behind the counter. His longer brown hair brushing across his brow as he ran a hand over his stubbled cheek.
Chloe looked away, needing to break the eye locking. She came to the conclusion, he was weird. It didn't surprise her, considering it was the middle of no-where.
“Hey...” she stuffed back and organized her items on the counter, hoping he'd leave. He had finished paying, he should have been walking out the door.
“Er... Can I...” She tried to move around him, her cold fingers pushing the items towards the clerk.
“Sorry.” He grunted and left.
The door chimed and he was outside, his dishevelled hair catching the blistering wind.
She watched as he walked across the icy pavement to where her father and the older man still stood talking. Realizing they all knew each other, she devised a plan to avoid any introductions. Her hands snatched the bag from the counter.
“Have a nice day!”
Jogging towards the truck did not work – yes, it had been her devised plan. She slipped on some ice, about to fall and it was enough to plague her.
“Chloe!” Henry called her over.
She groaned, her feet shuffling along the slippery ground towards them.
“Chloe, this is Roger Holtz and his son, Grayson.”
Chloe looked to the boy staring her down; again, she creased her brow at him. Her auburn hair whipped around her from another gust, “Hi... again.”
“Hey.” He looked away from her.
His father was more warming and he smiled at her, “Nice to meet you, Chloe. We've heard all about you!”
Chloe tried to smile, really tried, “I'm sure.” The cold had already seeped her Californian skin and was driving her bottom lip into convulsions.
“Cold?” Grayson asked her.
She held back her wanting sneer, “It's a bit different than what I'm used to.”
Henry patted her back, “My daughter's never left downtown Los Angeles.”
Her displeasure surfaced, “Yeah... well, why would I, Dad?”
Grayson let out a chuckle, “You'll get used to it, but you might want to invest in some winter clothes. Might end up frozen like that.”
She stared at him, unsure if he was joking around or just being a tool.
“Thanks.” She hissed, “Note taken.”
He chuckled, “We better go, Dad. I told Mike, I'd hang out.” He smiled at her before turning, “See you at school, Chloe.”
Her eyes bulged as they left, “I go to school with him!”
Henry snapped the gas cap back on, “Oh, yeah, he's your age. I'll just go pay, Loe.”
“Great!” She blurted out as a big black truck rumbled past her. Grayson was driving and his eyes met hers one last time, his face indifferent.
She snorted in annoyance, “What is that guy's deal?” Turning, she got back in the truck. Deciding to ignore all pressing thoughts that had to do with the tall boy or her impending first day at school, she began to wolf down her junk food.
Her dad jumped back in the truck minutes later, “Doing alright?”
“Fine,” she said simply, swallowing a last bite of chocolate bar.
“Alright.” He pulled the truck back out onto the road, “So, that's Roger. He's a good friend of mine.”
“Yay...” Chloe looked out her window.
“His wife is nice too – her name is Beth, you'll meet her soon.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I know all this seems different to what you're used to, Loe, but everyone is pretty nice and it's not all that bad here.”
“You're a cop,” she snapped, “Everyone is probably just afraid of you.”
He smiled, “It's not really like LA, Loe. There are only three Troopers in the town and I'm one of them.” She rolled her eyes and he continued, “I'm not a bad guy here.”
Chloe wasn't about to be sold on the Alaskan wilderness so easy.
“If anything – it's a lot calmer and nicer here.”
She didn't believe him though, because as they got to the big sign on the side of the road that was plastered in ice and snow, she knew that calmer and nicer translated to boring and alone.
“Here we are,” he smiled, pointing to the town on the side of the highway. It branched off and looked to be fairly decent size but in reality, it was the size of a neighbourhood in Los Angeles.
“Welcome to Polar, Alaska, Loe.”
She looked away before becoming depressed.
The silence left her to think over the next year of her life. Going to school, grad, living with her father, surviving the great north?
Oh, she was in for it – she just had that feeling.
The truck passed the exits for town, another ten minutes and Henry pulled into an icy driveway. It was long with dense forest on either side that peeled away to reveal an old two storey log home, unfortunately, it was her home too.
She stared at it, studying its quaintness.
“Well, here we are, Loe.” He turned off the truck and jumped out.
She followed but slower, taking in the new surroundings.
Her dad waited at the front door, “Come on! I have stew in the crock-pot.”
Chloe stood as snow started to fall. A crisp wind shot against her and she lunged forward, coming to his side.
He opened the unlocked door and dropped her bags to the entry way, which entwined into a large living room with two old couches and a cast iron wood-stove.
Her father shut the door and shook off his coat, “It's an old home, but the log homes keep their heat when their built right. This house is decent. The upstairs can just be a bit draft ridden from time to time but you just double up with blankets on those real cold nights.”
There was no escape, the heat and sun had been replaced with eternal winter in her life.
“So, are you hungry after all that junk on the ride home?”
She could smell the stew and it did smell darn good, “Sure...”
“Alright,” he clasped his hands, “First, I'll show you the bedroom. It's just up here.” He grabbed her bags and trudged the stairs in his worn out wool socks.
She followed close behind, almost afraid.
He led her down the hall and stopped at the last door on the left. He swung it open, one rickety lamp in the corner providing dim light.
She looked over the small single bed and one lonely window.
“I put a desk in here for you.” He dropped her belongings near the closet, “There are some hangers in here and if you need a dresser, I can get you one.”
Chloe winced; she'd left LA for this?
No correction... She'd been forced to leave.
She nodded her head, “Thanks, Dad.”
“Now, let's go have some stew. Been waiting all day...” He exited the room and she heard him rambling about getting off shift and coming to pick her up but she stayed put – his voice fading away.
She looked out the window and crept towards it, night had fallen and the snow, swirled in its blizzard. The dead silence in between the creaking of the house spooked her and she bolted from the room.
Alaska (Wolfstate Chronicles)
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