Alpha Wolves Debunked Novels & Stories

His wolf looked like a starving little puppy that needed medical attention and was not pleasant to the eyes. "Crush him, brother!" I shouted, my voice hoarse. With a deafening howl, James transformed, his massive, white-furred wolf overshadowing Robert's skinny wolf, and I couldn’t help but let out a laugh, and one of his goons joined in on the laughter. I was laughing so hard that water was coming out of my eyes. "I wouldn’t challenge an Alpha wolf with such a bony wolf if I were you." I commented, the laughter making my chest hurt.

“Your people call you Alpha.” “To annoy me.” He sighs, leans his head back, and stares at the low ceiling for a few seconds before he explains. “I’ve told them a hundred times—in nature, wolves don’t have alphas or betas or whatever. That’s a human thing. Humans put wolves in cages, and when the wolves didn’t have enough room to breathe, and they couldn’t hunt for their own food, they lost their minds. The strongest took everything he could for himself, and the others lived in fear. That’s where alphas came from, and it’s not the natural way of things. As shifters, it’s sure as hell not our way.”

This had to work. The last I’d heard of the yellow wolf’s bane, it was being used by a pack of wolves known as the Red dawn who were based out in the Borderlands. They were however, not a very welcoming lot. Shit! This was going to be difficult. I wasn’t looking forward to meeting the mad doctor they called an Alpha. Her reputation of sadism and diabolical experiments were well known in these parts. Rumor even had it that she was hideously deformed, looking more beast than woman. Even her betas were said to possess the strength and speed of two werewolves combined into one.

Why hadn’t I run screaming yet? “Sarah, there are only six white wolves in the world—one on each major continent. White wolves are believed to be direct descendants of the Moon Goddess herself. That’s where our coat color comes from. All packs across the continents acknowledge the authority of white wolves, out of ancient reverence. We mediate disputes and regularly meet with Alphas from everywhere.” I nodded, following—but what did this have to do with rejecting me?

What I gave him was simple: we had been attacked by a band of Rogues led by an unknown figure. “There are whispers,” the Alpha said at last, lowering himself into the chair in my room. “Rumors that he walked the earth even in Beta Gaven’s time.” “And do you believe it to be true, Alpha?” “Not at all,” the Alpha said firmly. “That would make him over two thousand years old.” His gaze hardened, though his voice dipped into something more contemplative. “Impossible. The oldest a werewolf has ever lived is six hundred years… no more.”

Be careful," I cautioned her as she flipped the first page in the book. Putting an end to her rush, she flipped the pages of the book slowly. I saw many stories of wolves. One page captured my attention. "Wait a minute," I said, stopping Damia. She opened the page and started to read to see what grabbed my attention. "The Alphas, who have black fur, are the most powerful wolves. There were two different kinds of black wolves that the members of this pack were scared of when they lived inside the forest many years ago, when the pack was not as modern as it is today. The first one has blue eyes, and the second one has red eyes. If they were to come into contact with one another during any war,

“Humans and werewolves can produce offspring, the way a tiger and a lion can. But humans cannot produce offspring with omegas.” “Yes?” Whitfield urged. Sarah shrugged. “That suggests that omegas are not, in fact, the same species as alpha, beta, and gamma werewolves. Perhaps this whole idea that omegas are some ‘inferior’ breed of wolves is actually based on the misconception that omegas are wolves at all.” We all sat for several minutes in silence. Melissa spoke first. “I think you’re right that’s a possibility, and I think we should continue to pursue the concept.”

I grunt as I stir my hot drink. “That’s what I thought but this alpha, he swears to the Moon Goddess that he saw one, during the battle…at this new pack.” “There’s no such thing as a white wolf. He must have had a knock to the head and seen something white in the distance.” White wolves were a myth, a fantasy. Something you tell children as part of a nursery tale.

“So, are your parent’s true mates? Who is your Alpha? How the hell have you kept this a secret for so long? What is your wolf’s name? I bet it’s cute like Rex or Mario. How big is your pack?” I sighed and turned to face her. “This is why we never told you.” I blurted. Rose immediately snapped her mouth shut. “There are no alpha wolves. There are no packs with set territories. The ‘mate bond from the moon goddess’ is crap. Our wolves are not separate from us. They ARE us. We don’t have little voices in our head telling us who we should love or obey. Yes, we can shift whenever we want after we hit puberty. No, we don’t go crazy during the full moon. Yes, we do have a little extra strength and

I said to them but none of them trusted me. “I’m sorry alpha,” a witch stood up. “But I have to side with the wolf elders on this one. You don’t see what we saw on that field that day. The wolves were breaking apart mountains to toss at us. Mountains! Do you even know how much mountains weigh? These wolves were doing it casually like it didn’t mean a thing. We need to stop them. And we need to do it now before these drugs are in full swing.”