Cursed To The Alpha

peak of her, and you will find yourself strung up on a flagpole,” I growl at him, “Smy voice foreign even to me.

I barely recognize my anger or the things I say before spitting them out. His face turns purple, and Donnie tries to take over when I unclench my hands, letting him go. I step away as he gasps for breath, clutching his throat and coughing.

“They can go,” I spit at him, walking off and toward the forest behind the packhouse.

I roam the forest aimlessly, wasting hours searching for rogues, looking for any sign of them. However, word seems to be getting out that people are going missing near my borders. Definitely not anything that will work to my advantage.

As the veil of darkness falls over the land, I still find nothing, not even a whiff of their rotten stench. I turn around, getting closer to the direction of home, I catch something from the corner of my eye. I can barely make out the burning scent of a fire, but it's enough to keep my attention focused on it. I walk to the clearing to see if I can spot smoke polluting the air.

“Uncharted,” Donnie says when we realize it is coming from the other side of the mountain. It is usually off-limits because it borders a human town. Wolves usually steer clear in case of hunters, yet it is the only sign we have had in days. We decide to chance it, and trek our way around the mountain only to come to the river. “Let's go home,” Donnie whines all of a sudden.

A little too late to change my mind as I have already pushed through the water to the other side and got washed downstream before reaching the other side.

“How are we meant to force a rogue through the water, Andrei? We would lose them in the stream,” Donnie points out before receding.

I just want to check it out and find out where this camp is. How is that a crime? It’s a simple hike around the place and some sightseeing experience, that’s all.

Since the moon is high in the sky, I can pick out most movements in the forest. The smell of the campfire grows stronger as I move closer.

“Fuck Donnie, shift,” I tell him when he doesn’t.

“No, this is stupid. We can’t even get them home.” he snaps, refusing to shift. I can’t believe this stubbornness. How is he changing his mind every couple of minutes? Just a while ago, he was on the same wavelength as me, and now, he’s acting like a stubborn child.

Fine, I don’t need him anyway. I watch carefully for movement, but it is obvious when they pick up my scent because the forest falls silent, except for the crackling of the burning fire.

As I step into their camp, I quickly scan the surroundings. Three men sit around the campfire, holding out their hands to warm up. One in wolf form lies on the ground just a few feet away from the campfire.

The wolf’s fur is a beautiful gray color. Her fur reminds me of the color of gunmetal. No other color, not even a speck of white or black, just the gray and blue eyes that stare ahead, unseeing like there’s no life left behind them.

The she-wolf’s eyes are sad. Full of so much sorrow and pain it almost feels real. But no, that isn’t accurate enough. Staring at her, I get a feeling that I’m gazing into the eyes of the dead.

When the men finally notice my presence, they jump up from their seats. Despite their stance, I can’t take my eyes off the wolf that lies by the tree.

Unexpectedly, Donnie pushes forward. I stand frozen on the spot, confused beyond my ability to understand. I face rogues all the time, I hunt after them to get my next distraction, but I can’t move.

The stench of the rogues mixes with what is the most mouth-watering scent I have smelt since Angie. Cinnamon and vanilla invades my senses, taking over, and freezing me in place. But that’s not all - what it freezes, it sets it on fire just a moment after, and my chest burns with a feeling I can’t understand.

I stare, stunned for a second. I must be imagining it, there is no such thing as second chance mates, yet Donnie screams the word in my head before I notice one of the men run at me with a blade in his hand. In my shock, Donnie shoves forward and rips into his arm, making him drop the knife.

His screams pierce the quiet forest and bounce off the trees. The other two take off into the woods. The she-wolf gets to her feet from the corner of my eye, probably wanting to escape.

But Donnie is too overtaken by the mission on hand. He tears into the rogue's stomach, spilling his intestines onto the ground. In the meantime, the man clutches them, trying to stuff them back inside his body as if that will somehow work. We lunge at his throat. Our teeth sink into his flesh before shaking our head.

His blood sprays everywhere, all over our fur, turning the scene from a simple camping spot to a vile murder scene. The rogue gurgles as he takes his last breath, and we hear a yelp that turns into a whimper.

Donnie shifts back, and I turn around to find the wolf still by the tree. She is struggling to remove the collar around her neck. My eyes follow the chain that is attached to a tree and back to her.

She is no longer in her wolf form. Gone is the captivating gray wolf. Long, blonde hair falls to her waist and over her ass as she crouches low to the ground, trying to undo it.

As she hears the sound of my footsteps near her, she growls and shifts back to her wolf, but even that doesn't help as she struggles to get the chain undone before I approach her.

She turns on me, baring her teeth and snapping them at me. As scary as she thinks she looks, I can feel the stench of her desperation and fear as if she has bathed in it for years.

“Stop, I won’t hurt you,” I promise, but that just makes her growl louder as she steps back. Her fur hackles up, and I bend down, keeping my eyes trained on her, just in case she risks it and goes for my throat. I drop the long chain, step back and put my hands up.

“Why is she chained?” Donnie asks me worriedly as he peers back at this wolf, which appears to be ours, though I can't understand how that is possible.

“I don’t know,” I answer. I don't really want to think of why they have her chained. Just want to get it off her. First and foremost, I need to release her, and then I can try to figure out this impossible mess.

“I will unchain you. Just don’t bite me,” I warn her as I kneel down and reach for the chain. My movements are slow, just to ensure I won’t startle or scare her.

She keeps growling, her eyes not leaving me as I wrap my hand around the thick chain. I try to break it, but it is far too thick even for me to snap. Finally, I get up, moving too quickly, and she lunges at me, her teeth sinking into my arm.

That’s on me. It is my mistake to move faster than I should, but I act on instinct, and I shove her off harder than I intend. She hits the tree before scrambling back to her feet. I scramble backward on my hands and feet as the chain forces her back, yanking her backward when she lunges at my face.

I growl at her, getting to my feet, and walk over to the dead rogue by the campfire and rummaging through his pockets. There is no key on him, which means one of the other two must have it.

I look around until I find an old, worn ax stuck into a fallen tree where they are sitting. I pull it from the log and slowly turn back to the she-wolf.

Her blue eyes widen in shock and fear. I don’t get to explain my intention as she starts jerking on the chain with all her might, desperate to break it and get away from me.

“Wait, you are only hurting yourself. Stop it!” I snap at her.

My words clearly mean nothing to her, and neither does the warning I’m trying to give her. As I get closer, she continues to yank on it with more strength.

She growls at me and tries to bite me again, so I grab the scruff of her neck and shove her head down on the dirt. Carefully, not to hurt her, I step over her and squeeze her body between my legs to keep her calm.

She thrashes, and I lift the ax. I focus on the spot I need to break and bring down the ax on the chain. She yelps and my ears ring from clinking the ax. It is so blunt it takes three hits on the chain before it snaps.

Like the wind, she takes off as soon as she gets a chance, nearly knocking me over as she pulls backward between my legs and darts for the trees. I watch her disappear and scoff at how loud she’s being.

“Oh, little wolf, you don’t want to make me chase you,” I growl before shifting, gladly giving Donnie his moment to shine.