Alpha Silent Protector

I ran.

I've been through a lot in my life. Humiliating things, failed plans, broken ideals; perhaps more mistakes than successes. But even so, when Gregor looked into my eyes and proclaimed his contempt for me, it was as if my whole body shattered.

Things hadn't been going very well. For a while, maybe.

"You're pathetic," he told me. I felt pathetic too. For lowering my head to him, for always letting him have his way with me.

I don't know where it all went wrong.

The next thing I knew, one day, he was no longer who I thought he was.

Gregor was my predestined mate from childhood. We've lived through generations like that, with the Alphas of the pack choosing the prettiest girls for their sons, testing how the combination would look.

I grew up with an idealization of what a mate meant anyway.

My mother used to bring human literature home in secret. I'm not sure how she got hold of those books, but they fascinated me: they all described men who were strong and respectful, powerful but fair. They described how these men made their partners feel, how safe it was to be with them. Like a fairy tale, like a princess's life. And so much has always been said about mates and their deep connections... I thought it would be like that, like in the books. That it would be good.

But it doesn't exist.

Men like that don't exist, and even among mates there could be all the contempt that Gregor always showed me. We were mates, weren't we? Or rather, we are mates. Aren't we?

It's hard to be at peace with that.

I had his mark on my skin. His smell surrounded me, and his presence, no matter how disgusting it made me feel, restored my energy. As if I physically needed him.

"I don't know why we chose you," he said. "An Alpha needs a strong woman by his side. You're disgraceful."

I ran.

He had closed the door to our room. Prevented me from entering, prevented us from finishing that conversation, as always.

But I ran.

There was the smell of another woman in our bed.

I ran.

I'd never been out alone before. Always in groups, sometimes to hunt and sometimes to accompany some of the clansmen - or Gregor himself - on external matters. I wasn't sure how to guide myself through the forest, and I was fully aware that I could at any moment run into a human hunter holding a shotgun ready to take me down, but I ran anyway. Pathetic. His voice echoed through my head as I cried.

I didn't care about the logs; the scratches they made on my arm or the sharp stones piercing my bare feet. I passed places I didn't remember, trying to guide myself by the smell--away from humans, just into the forest, somewhere I could rest. Where I could think, and where I could decide if I should go back. Maybe I shouldn't. Maybe I could survive for a few days on my own, eating small animals or fruit.

They didn't teach women to fight. They didn't teach them to survive on their own in my clan. I only knew what I knew from watching Gregor...

Gregor. What could I be without him? Who is rejected by their mate?

Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.

I only stopped running in a clearing. An open space between the trees, the light of the moon being my only source of illumination. It would soon be full moon.

I sat down, put my back against an oak trunk. I cried. My legs were dirty with dirt now.

When I reached the clearing, there was no smell. I was far enough away from my clan that I couldn't smell them anymore, and I was far enough away from any human or village. I could only smell the flowers, blooming oblivious to my despair at the edge of a small pond. I could smell the salt, the earth.

I allowed myself a moment of self-pity. Just with the sounds of the owls, the animals in the woods. A moment to breathe, to try to organize my head. It had been a long day.

And even uncovered in the cold, I managed to fall asleep for a few minutes.

My downfall. When I woke up, there was a smell.

A different one. Earthy, woody. It was almost like a perfume, pleasant but serious notes on the nose. And, for a moment, I forgot where I was. Unprotected, in the middle of the forest.

I stood up in a hurry. That smell wasn't a werewolf's, but a pack's, and it wasn't mine.

I turned around. I needed to find somewhere else before I was spotted. Clans didn't have very friendly relations with each other, they were territorial, and that could get me killed if I didn't run away soon.

Then, just as I tried to get around that thick oak trunk, there was a noise.

A step.

A leaf being crushed against a man's sole, and I turned around. Terrified.

He stared at me. Tall, handsome, exuding that woody smell. He was wearing a furry coat, elegant winter boots, and looked at me with the coldest orbs I've ever seen. They were icy blue, like sharp crusts of ice.

I heard noises from the other werewolves who were probably following him, but they were further away. There was only him in front of me. Staring.

I stepped back.

He sniffed the air.

Then his eyes glowed an intense yellow. Not good. I knew that tone.

"Ashenfur," he pronounced my clan's name between breaths.

The color of his eyes. His instances.

He was the enemy Alpha.

And I knew he was about to attack me.

At least to die to the sound of such a beautiful voice... and yet Gregor's words still haunted me.

Maybe I was pathetic.