CHAPTER 5: ALPHA KING RYAN

ALPHA KING

There was an eerie stillness in the woods, one that pricked at my senses. Walking home, there was only the quiet of leaves being pushed aside by my boots as they sank into the soggy mud of the narrow path. The moon broke through the canopy above, lighting the ground in sporadic silver puddles. Though I've always been vigilant, I'm nervous tonight. Widespread attacks, escalating tensions between packs, and rumors of rebellions had been playing havoc for weeks. It was my duty to keep my territories tight and unified. I could not fail. I stood at six feet four and was a commanding presence that could scare off most men. My penetrating green eyes swept every shadow and twig for movement and detected nothing. Pursuing movement in every branch and darkness. He wore complex tattoos of wolves and runes carved onto his skin, coiled around his neck and arms. They conveyed power and a heritage handed down from his ancestors; they were not baubles. My black pants were drawn up into sturdy boots, and my black shirt hung loose over my wide shoulders. I held only a silver dagger attached at my waist, one which I could use with deadly efficiency and without guard. My wolf within was disturbed and tense. I growled low and constant, my wolf saying, "We're being watched." My senses were alerted, and I moved back. The forest was quiet, normally alive with the voices of the night. The metallic taste of blood touched my lips. My jaw tightened as it touched my nose. My warriors sensed my signal and prepared their arms as I lifted my hand. The ambush was unexpected. With their snarls tearing through the quiet, seven outlaws emerged from the darkness. Their tattered clothes and matted fur bore witness to their desperation; they were savage and wild. A tall, scarred man with pointed, yellowed teeth directed the way. "Alpha King," he snarled, his voice tainted with hate. "This marks the end of your kingdom." A small, wicked smile worked its way across Mý's face. "Jùst seven? Offensivus. The leader growled and said, "Kill him! "With claws and teeth shining in the moonlight, the outlaws charged as a group. I did not blink. I dodged the first attacker with ease by sliding like a ghost. Dodging the first attacker with ease. With a snap that resounded between the trees, his fist exploded out and crashed into the rogue's ribs. I spun, drawing out his silver knife in a flash of movement as the second rogue struck from behind. The rogue fell to the ground, crying out in agony as the sword tore through flesh. The combat was a dance of death. I moved with calculated precision. Another rogue died or bled after every blow, dodge, and parry. As I fought, my wolf's power surged through me, and he growled in approval. My hands' tattoos glowed dimly, their power pulsing in time to my movement. Only its leader remained after the last rogue was killed. He backed away, his eyes wide with horror.".

"You're. You're not dead; you should be dead; the witch said you'd die today," the leader stuttered, clutching at his bleeding side. "No. I'm not dead but now I'm your worst nightmare." I executed one quick, decisive motion to end the combat, and the rogue leader's body slumped lifelessly onto the ground. My wolf settled, and I stood motionless for an instant, breathing hard, and the forest grew silent again, save for the leaves dancing in the wind. If the witches are to blame, it means trouble, but luckily, I didn't lose any of my warriors. I hate that I lose my people. All of this can be avoided, but man's greed is simply too great. He will do anything to gain power, and others are just a nuisance to him, without regard for the families he leaves behind. "Pathetic," my wolf hissed. "They never learn." With a face like stone, I cleaned my dagger and put it away. There wasn't really threat from this ambush. It was poorly conceived and desperate, but it made people wonder. Why were outlaws growing so bold? What or whom provoked them to attack? Questions without answers vexed me. I pulled out an ink pen and a creased piece of vellum from my saddle bag and remounted horse at the edge of the woods. I scribbled a note in hasty, strong lines: Thomas, I will come to check your pack in three days. Let him know that I'm returned. "Let him know I'm here.". We have to talk. – I affixed my emblem to the letter and impressed the seal in a circle of wax whose shape became a howling wolf beneath a crescent moon. "Take this to Thomas's pack," I instructed a waiting urchin-courier lad. The boy nodded and took off with the letter before leaping up onto his horse and disappearing off into the darkness at a mad gallop. I did not move, my sharp eyes gazing straight ahead into the night. Something was off. The air was heavy, and my wolf was agitated. This was their territory, but none of their warriors appeared to be present. I asked his parents if Thomas was ready to be the leader, and they answered that he was, therefore making him Alpha by joining me at the council but now sneaking around. His mating ceremony is approaching a few days from now. According to what my wolf tells me, we have not yet finished. It is not just that. "Count how many men we lost; I would speak to their families myself." I have a dreadful headache; I did not request this, and I do not enjoy the killing; it could have been prevented, but human greed has no bounds, and I must do what I have to do to safeguard my people. His fingers brushed against the charmed ink as I stroked the tattoos on my neck. My gut told me that something remarkable was about to happen, and I listened to my gut. When I advanced further, the moon was beneath, and the gloominess surrounding me blackened. There was some storm raging somewhere in the background behind this darkness. And that was exactly aiming for me.