Alpha

Eyulf wraps his arms around her as I push past to go to Cannan and Susanne’s room, huffing. The window is open.

"Dammit!" I mutter. Zeeva stayed with Eyulf and Rudi, but Lovett and Ryder followed me, both alert as if someone is going to leap out at the shadows at us and snatch me away. I close the door, wanting to bang my head against it.

"Alright," I say quietly. "Ryder, I need you to stay here. No arguments. Please," I say, putting my hand up as he opens his mouth to argue. "You are still second in command, one of my two favorite right hand men." Therefore, I need you to keep an eye on everything around here—make sure that no one else goes missing. I want no one to go anywhere alone, it would actually be best if we stayed together even in the house. Do you mind relaying this to the others, Ryder?" I look up at him hopefully and he nods, turning to leave with a look of regret and feelings of betrayal on his face that I feel through the Bond. "Wait, Ryder," I call. He turns around, and I take a tissue box off of the dresser, handing it to him. "Give this to Rudi, please." He smiles sadly and leaves, closing the door behind him.

"Alright, Lovett, you’re coming with me. I’m positive I could sniff out the trail, but I don’t want anyone—including myself—to be alone. I say that we head out the way that he did." I gesture my head to the window, and he nods in agreement.

Lovett and I duck out the window and begin following Cannan’s exact path. The silence between us is uncomfortable and makes me feel uneasy, knowing that he wants to have a ‘talk’ with me. Sure enough, he soon opens his mouth, an awkward look on his face. "So, what was Ryder doing to you earlier? I heard and saw you two—all that screaming and giggling. Why was he in your bed with you?"

"Are you serious, Lovett? With everything that's going on right now, that's what you want to talk about?" I look at him incredulously, barely remembering to keep my nose on the road. "Honestly, I was having a bad day, and he's the only one who seemed to notice. I had a terrible nightmare, I found out that it’s the anniversary of Mama and Papa’s death day, and two of my friends are missing. I sigh. Look, I was stressed, and Ryder was kind enough to cheer me up. He’s always the one to cheer me up." He gives me an annoyed look, and I roll my eyes. We keep following Cannan's trail, and I go over his words again. "And he wasn't in my bed. He was on it, just like he has a hundred times before. I don't understand what the big deal is." I cross my arms defiantly and we continue walking.

He squirms uncomfortably, and I roll my eyes again, annoyed with my brother's overprotectiveness. We aren't little kids anymore. I don't need him to protect me anymore. I'm much bigger and stronger now. I can take care of myself. And then I notice something. We aren’t alone.

"Lovett—"

"I know."

He grabs my hand, and we start running. Suddenly, I’m four years old again. The only difference is that this time, the person chasing us has no distractions. His only targets are Lovett and I. Panic tries to seize control as it drips like poison through my veins, but I refuse to let it have me. It then occurs to me the irony of this situation when compared to my thoughts toward my brother only moments ago.

Lovett and I continue to race through the forest, momentarily forgetting to chase Cannan’s trail as we run for our lives. And then, the worst thing possible happens.

I trip. And I fall.

I plummet to the floor, involuntarily dragging my brother down with me. We fall in a heap onto dirt and crunchy leaves. Lovett huffs and detangles himself from me so that he can leap up and stand protectively in front of me. I feel the tingle in my mind as he projects a message to the Pack that we need help. Fast. But if we’re outnumbered, there’s nothing they can do. We’re too far away from the house.

I stand so that I’m by Lovett’s side. Someone steps out from behind the shadows of the trees. It’s a guy. He can't be much older than Lovett is, maybe 20, at most 21 years old. He's about as tall as Lovett and Ryder with black hair and eyes about the same shade in their thrones of high cheek bones. His skin is as fair as ours.

I very faintly hear the others dashing around the trees as they try to reach us, but we’re so far away. Lovett and I size the boy up and vice versa. I realize that he’s the source of the scent form earlier, but I still can’t place that familiar face.

Where do I know him? The enigma frustrates me—I hate not knowing something. But Lovett knows him. He suddenly gasps, and his arm shoots out in front of me, shielding me from the boy and taking a step back. Stay away from her—from us!" he growls, his teeth bared.

"Lovett, what—"

"You seem to remember my father, dear mongrel—not quite fondly, I might add. But your sister does not." The boy’s voice is deep and laced with a French accent. He chuckles lightly. "Shall we enlighten her as I remind you who among us are the true monsters."

On an ordinary day, I would’ve whipped up as many snide comments about this posh, sanctimonious asshole as I could and shared each one of them with their subject, but then I realize how I know him. Why I recognize that smell, the height, the dark eyes. He looks exactly like his father, missing only the greasy brown hair.

His father killed my parents.

I nudge the stone-still, shell-shocked Lovett aside and step up so that I’m face to face with the boy. "You monster. No, you murderer!" I spit at his feet.

"‘Murderer?’" he asks innocently, ignoring my angry gesture. "I am not sure I know what you, my dear, are talking about. I’ve killed no one of any significance. Only mongrels, much like yourselves."

"Well, if that's true, you must not take after your father then. Because he crushed my mother's skull, with his foot, and she was human."

He looks uncertain for a moment but quickly recovers. "He had every reason to kill her—she was probably plotting against humanity alongside your cur father."

I glare at him. My father was not a cur! And let me 'enlighten' you about something. The Pack means a lot to us. Once you’re part of a Pack, you’re family. A Pack Bond is as strong as the bond between Lovett and I, perhaps stronger. Once you’re in it, you’re in it for life. So give us back Susanne and Cannan now."

The boy looks confused, as if very unsure of himself right now. He visibly shakes himself of his uncertainties, and the sly grin is back on his face in a flash. Only his eyes betray his feelings. "If you are referring to Goldilocks and tall, dark, and in need of anger management, then no." He flashes us a twisted grin. "They reside in the custody of my best men. And there they will stay until I have all of you within my clutch, puppets to my will."

I snarl at him, knowing I look completely animalistic. "Give them to us. Now!" I grab him by the throat, wrapping my fingers around his neck and shoving him against the tree.

And I’m burned.

"What the hell?" I clutch my hand and look at it. There are slash mark-shaped burns across my hand where I touched a sword shaped necklace that he wears, and it hurts like hell!

"Oh, this?" he asks casually, touching the necklace. "This is nothing, nothing compared with this." In a flash, he pulls a gun from his waistband and points it at me. "Call your Pack off, now."

I glare at him, not willing to do a thing he says. "Why should we?" I ask, refusing to look at the gun. The Pack is so close...

"Call off the Pack, or I will shoot you each in various, non-harmful places in your bodies with steel bullets until you writhe in pain and beg for me to stop. And then I will continue until you are dead."

I exchange a look with Lovett who still stands behind me. We have a silent conversation with our eyes until a bullet shoots over my head, lodging itself just above Lovett in a tree. About a centimeter. Just like his father. This boy is his father.

"That, my dears, was your warning." His voice is impatient, losing its calm tone.

"What is it with you hunters and shooting at trees just above our heads?" I demand with a sneer despite my awe-inspiring fear. He sneers at me and shoots at the tree again, this time just above my head.

As werewolves, we aren’t invincible. We age like normal people, but we can easily heal from non-steel bullets. Steel, on the other hand, is our kryptonite. This scar on my hand will more than likely be with me for life.

Knowing he’s not bluffing, Lovett and I grudgingly call off the Pack. "They aren’t coming," I growl harshly.

"How might I ensure that fact?"

"How about we bite you and see if you believe us then," Lovett comments from behind me.

I ignore him, continuing to focus my glare on the boy. "If you knew anything about werewolves, you’d know how loyal we are. I’m not going to let myself be killed until I can reunite my Pack."

He considers for a moment and nods. "Now take a step back," he instructs through his teeth. I oblige, afraid of getting shot. "Good." He steps forward slowly and slaps me across the face with his gun.

I cry out in pain and fall to the floor. I hold my hand against my throbbing cheek as footsteps restart their crunching across the ground, now more urgent. But as soon as I look up, the boy has one arm wrapped around Lovett’s neck and the gun cocked about a centimeter from his head.

"Call of the Pack, you bitch."

"I did!"

"Well do it again, or your brother dies."

The footsteps are mere meters from us, too close to stop them. He looks up and seems to realize this. He holds Lovett closer to him as the others break through the trees.

"Listen up, all of you, because this is how it is going to play out."

"Who the hell is this guy?" Zeeva asks.

"What's going on?" Ryder demands.

"This is the guy who kidnapped Cannan and Susanne, and he is also the guy with a steel gun filled with steel bullets to my brother’s head." I shift my hair out of my face so that they can see the burn mark. "So let’s all just calm down."

"Louve, I swear, I will kick his—" Ryder starts.

"Ryder, no, we aren’t doing anything. Let him talk."

"But—"

"Quiet, Ryder!" My teeth are clenched, but my hands are tied because I refuse to be responsible for Lovett’s death. Everyone shuts up and I look at the boy expectantly.

The boy looks vaguely impressed by the power that I hold over my Pack and the fact that they actually listen to me when I give orders. "Listen up, you beasts! I’m going to take your precious Pack member away now. If any of you values his life or your own, you will not follow. Hansel," he whispers into Lovett’s ear, yanking his head back by his hair, "if I were you, I wouldn’t leave any breadcrumbs for Gretel to find to bring you home. Do I make myself clear?"

I roll my eyes and stand. "We aren't in the first grade. Quit it with the fairy tale references." I step forward, ignoring the agonizing pain in my face. "And I want to hug my brother goodbye," I growl. Looking smug, the boy shrugs as if it can’t hurt. Keeping one hand on his wrist and the gun by his head, he allows Lovett to step forward. I embrace him, and he holds me tight with his available arm. "Don’t worry, Lovett, we’ll get you out of this," I whisper, tears in my eyes.

"Okay, loving final embrace is over. Let us depart." The boy smiles cynically and snatches Lovett away much to my despair.

"Wait!" I call, trying to buy time but knowing can’t do anything without getting Lovett killed. "What is your name? I have to know."

"Oh yes? And why must you acquire that, might I ask?"

"You’re walking away with my brother. Humor me."

He sighs as if this whole occurrence is tedious and is taking some major toll on him. "If you really must know, you, my dear, may call me Damien. And the pleasure is all mine."

"I wouldn’t exactly call it a pleasure, you bastard."

"Language, little wolf."

"Don't you dare call me that!" I growl at him through clenched teeth.

He ignores me as if I hadn't spoken. "And patience, please. Soon enough, you will be back with your sweet, delicious, big brother. Farewell, my fair Pack."

As he’s being led away, Lovett looks at us over his shoulder. "Ryder, take care of her!" he demands. "Keep her safe!"

And then, I watch as my older brother is led away with a gun to his head while I am rendered completely useless.