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Chapter 8
I follow the scent of the Alpha for about a quarter of a mile until I come up to a group of people. I can see the top of Alpha Wade’s head as I angrily push through and freeze when I see what’s happening before me. In the mud are the young omegas I met the other day. They shiver in fear as Alpha Wade hoovers over them, demanding answers they are too frightened to give.
Robin is covered in mud as her brother tries to cover her frame from the line of sight of the onlookers. Her shirt appears to be slightly ripped and her hair is matted to her cheeks as she sobs about being sorry. Mason looks feral as he growls like a beast with rabies at anyone who comes near. Alpha Wade grows weary of their crying and lack of answer as they hand him a whip and he raises it above his head. My feet are moving as fast as I can push them as I land myself in front of the shaking teenagers my back facing the Alpha.
The whip comes down hard across my left s
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“Wolf form,” Derrick demands, smirking. This douche thinks he is being so slick by suggesting this type of fighting. Me fighting her in my wolf's form is insanely dangerous for her, especially considering she doesn’t have a wolf. “Agreed.” She says quicker than I can decline. I glance at Ali, disappointed in her quick agreement, but she just smiles. “To the center, Alpha,” she says as she saunters away from me. “Damn it,” I mutter, following behind her. I know she is a formidable fighter and has an extremely high pain tolerance, but I’m certain I can beat her. Admittedly, I may be lax when it comes to training my warriors, but it is because I know my skills are enough in most situations to keep them safe. I remove my shirt, not wanting to rip it, and look down at my pants. These are my favorite jeans. Sighing, I unbutton them and slide them off, standing only in my navy blue boxer briefs, leaving nothing to the imagination of anyone in the training ring. I notice a tinge of red
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I wait for everyone to clear out, and when I’m finally alone; I let my guard down. My leg quivers in pain as I wince, trying to get it to move. Each step shoots up and into my back, bringing agonizing pain. I grunt with effort, closing my eyes and forcing myself to breathe through it. I usually rely heavily on the strength of my wolf to help keep the pain at bay, but my control over him slips more often lately. In fact, it seems to be a similar thing to all the wolves in the pack. Everyone is on edge, grumpy, and quick to anger. I can only assume that it is the stress of the rogue attacks and the potential danger that lurks just outside our borders. I know that more and more lately I find myself hard-pressed to want to check the Eastern border near the meadow and spring. I make a misstep as I move down the stairs and tumble down the last three, landing with a dull thud and groaning in pain. “Fuck!” I yell out in anger.Why is it so bad today? I call for my wolf to help, but the mome
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“Francis,” I say peeking my head through my bedroom door. He walks over and comes out to the hallway. “Pansy,” I say handing him the cup. He takes it from me, bringing it to his nose and scrunching it in distaste. “It smells so sour. How would he not notice?” “I think he has been drinking it for a while. He's not consuming enough to kill him or anything. But definitely enough to disorient him and make it harder to control his wolf.” “Ok. Does he need an antidote or something?” Francis asks, looking concerned. “I’m sure he will be fine after a couple of hours of sleep. I need to figure out where it came from.” “Look at you, not even sworn in and still taking care of him” Fran
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We crash through the thick brush until we find the small cement building. It is overrun with weeds and vines of ivy that creep up its outer walls. The entire area is overgrown and unkempt. Wild weeds sway in the small breeze that tickles my nose with various scents of musky building and wild vegetation. To the left is a crumbled brick well with a broken crank that would have once been used to pull water from the well. Weathered boards lay loosely across the top, acting as a weak barrier. I put my hands on my hip and spin around, trying to understand how this place could be the new well. When I heard about the new well, I had expected something newer. Not this abandoned shed. “This is it?” I ask, unsure if I believe them. “Yep.” “Who is in charge of it?” “How would we know? We are omega kids.” Mason says, annoyed. I smirk, knowing all too well he is hungry and angry. I reach into my hoodie pocket and toss a granola
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