Book 1 of Alpha Wolf: Mate Mine

The air was sweet with the smell of wildflowers. The mountains were shimmering as the sun peaked, revealing its beauty and pure wilderness.

A few rabbits swarmed in the bushes of the dense forest, digging and scrabbling in the late morning peace. From time to time, one of them would raise his furry brown neck to look around cautiously, to check that hungry predators weren’t lurking.

It was in their nature to sense when danger was near ... ready to pounce on their delicious flesh.

When, suddenly, a muffled sound alerted them, they had a few seconds to scatter and run away in distinct directions. Two huge wolves darted between them, paying zero attention to who or what they trampled on.

The prey of the forest always felt a burning fear when a wolf approached. But those were not ordinary wolves. Those were two sons of the moon, two whom the goddess herself loved dearly and on whom she always kept a watchful eye, to study the next move.

Unlike the other hunters of the forest, werewolves were endurance hunters not ambush predators, while lynx and bears were fast over short distances but lack the stamina for a long chase, so fur camouflaged them against the forest background to let them creep to within striking distance of their prey.

Then there were the werebeasts. Rare specimens of werewolves. With wolves that might have belonged to another geological era.

Blessed with incredible endurance, these creatures could run relentlessly, for miles and miles, or pounced in a short distance.

Their fur did not need to offer some degree of camouflage as they appeared and disappeared lightning fast.

Their movements were smooth, with no apparent effort. While a mere predator would puff and give up after several kilometres (yards), these kept running, with those powerful legs as if they were the best machines ever built.

Their target was always set and all that mattered was the confirmed kill. At that very moment, their compass was the stench of traitors, guiding them through the woods. Towards their destination: no man’s land. Where rogues reigned, indomitable, without rules or order.

One of these werebeasts had pitch-black fur and fangs still wet with blood. Eyes staring straight ahead, never faltering.

The other had such red fur that an observer would believe he was painted with real blood. No emotion manifested itself on his cold eyes, characterised by an endless neutrality.

Those were the Black Alpha and the Killing Machine, following two particular scents. Hunting. Looking for flesh.

Of those who had dared to betray the Black Devil. Of those who would die every day to come.

No matter what Cornelia and Frerea had planned to cover their scent, Crucifero had identified it almost immediately. As if it were a trail of black smoke running through the forest. All the tricks and strategies to mask the smell and hide could not be used against whoever invented them and trained them.

Meanwhile, flashed of Elena passed out in the prison as well as the moment when he first met her, struck Mirko like a thousand waves of dazzles.

Anger seared through him again and again.

How did I let this all happen inside my fucking pack? He was questioning himself.

Vision redden with fury as iron muscles pushed and pushed, in the depths of no man’s land.

His body was surrounded by immense heat, all around him, almost part of him. His fangs ached to tear and destroy. His wolf howled, hungry, or better, thirsty for blood.

While Crucifero and Mirko went further and further into no man’s land, sporadic rogues had scurried away, reminding the rabbits they had encountered a little while ago. Afraid of the dominant energy. Scared of the red wolf. Terrified of the alpha wolf who was not like any other alpha wolf.

Many of their rogue friends had fallen because of getting too close or passing through their land. Because they had made the unforgivable mistake of approaching the border of the Black Devil. Also called the land of no return.

Mirko had never cared much about the sad life of rogues as long as they kept good distance.

When they reached an opening followed by a hill, the stenches grew....

On the crest of the rocky hill were multiple silhouettes. Two, very familiar ones, stood almost statue-like while the others tumbled about, snarled and growled.

Some of those wolves had seen better days. Their fur was thin and clung to their frame like a handkerchief in a storm. Even from several yards away Mirko could identify and count their ribs. Others were massive, with intricate maps of scars all over their muzzles.

“Mirko!! You came for me!” Cornelia boomed out, her nasal voice reaching sensitive ears.

As his victim walked into the open, Craken watched.

Waiting.

And his long canine tongue licked his jowls.

While the rogues were watching...

Waiting.

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AN/ Hello my loves!! How are you week?! Here where I live it snowed <3

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