Outliers

You were so beautiful to me then - your soul of light, your wraith-like figure - it was as though I could pass my hand through you, untouched, unreachable... like that of spirit - but still, your essence pressed to mine, tethered to me, as though I could turn it in my fingers, as thought it was so much my own.

- Segovia Amil

The following two weeks had been - not to be too dramatic - absolute hell.

I had been playing that dreadful scene over and over and over again, every day torturing myself. The Alpha had escaped almost immediately after Sandra had made her presence known and it had taken me at least a minute to stop my stream of a repetitive ‘thank you’ to her for disrupting us.

All she had said on the situation was how terrified I had looked that she couldn’t ignore it, before she was propping up the mirror against my wall and jokingly asking me to do a twirl.

Since that evening, I hadn’t sparred once with Alpha Harris. The only physical contact we’d shared was the brief touch of his hands when he’d have to correct my positioning during certain exercises in training. Even that had my skin burning in ways I really wished it didn’t.

I couldn’t be in the same room as him, and I avoided him whenever I could.

I couldn’t explain my attraction to him. I couldn’t understand it at all. With Jack, my affections for the Alpha had been a slow burn, the heat growing between us over an expanse of three years until it had eventually grown too overwhelming. My last three months in Idaho had been a struggle, another reason for my desire to transfer to Colorado.

But my attraction to Alpha Harris, to Thane? It wasn’t a slow burn but a raging forest fire, all-consuming, growing too fast to control. It had sparked from a minute appreciation, or simply just an acknowledgement of his attractive figure, and all too quickly devoured me without mercy. But I didn’t know the male. I hadn’t bonded with him. It wasn’t the love I felt for Jack, but lust. A distraction my body was forcing onto me to forget the Alpha who held my heart so far away; a distraction that was driving me absolutely insane. Even today, two weeks after the incident, I could still feel the bush of Thane’s lips against my neck, the graze of his hands across my back.

So I couldn’t be around him, not when looking into his eyes set me alight all over again. Not as I was realising the fire inside me hadn’t yet ceased to burn.

Unfortunately, when you lived in the same house together within an exceedingly small pack, it was almost impossible to hide forever.

I was sitting at the kitchen island with a mug of green tea, Nero opposite me on another tall bar stool as he devoured his cereal, when Alpha Harris stormed into the kitchen with his usual impatient strides. I kept my eyes ahead of me, on Nero, and saw him shudder. If the Alpha didn’t acknowledge me, I didn’t have to acknowledge him. Usually I could eat my breakfast in peace as the Alpha helped with the first group of trainees right after my training, but this morning he had followed me right back into the main house and disappeared upstairs.

He moved behind me to a counter-top and I couldn’t stop my muscles from tensing. My focus immediately shifted to the male, who, from the sounds of it, was pouring himself a coffee. I refused to look at the Alpha, but I could hear his every movement. I could feel the minuscule distance between us.

The younger wolf’s words trailed off when he noticed he had lost my attention, and a thick silence overcame the room. Even the other wolves of the main pack, who were sitting over at the dining table eating their breakfasts, had ceased speaking. I felt like I was holding my breath, my lungs refusing to work in the presence of the Alpha male. But I far preferred the growing burn in my chest to breathing in his scent.

When he finally left the room, and the sound of his feet ascending to the highest floor of the house became too faint to hear, I exhaled visibly.

“Fuck me, Harris’ wolf has been dancing up a storm this past month,” one of the female wolves at the table finally spoke up in a soft murmur, as if fearing her Alpha would hear her, earning hums of agreement. Then the rest of their conversations picked right back up again, as if there had never been a disruption.

“What do they mean?” I asked, cocking my head towards Nero, who also appeared to be listening in.

“You don’t feel it?” He frowned. “It’s practically pulsing from the Alpha everywhere he goes. His wolf is agitated, biting at everything and snapping its teeth with the smallest of provocations. Just being in his vicinity makes my wolf so on edge I feel like my skin’s crawling.”

I shrugged, staring down at my steaming mug.

“His agitation is almost on par with yours,” Nero commented under his breath, likely so the table behind him couldn’t hear us talking. “Not that I can feel yours. You’re going to have to speak to him tonight, you know.”

“What?” I looked up, frowning. The last thing I wanted to do was spend my night with Alpha Harris.

“It’s been a month,” Nero was grinning. “Has no one told you? You’re being initiated into the pack tonight. I can’t be there ’cause I’m not in the pack, despite how many times I’ve begged Adriel to let me.”

“I’m gonna be an official pack member?” I almost whispered, too thrown back to find my voice.

“Yeah, and Harris is going to be there and you’re going to have to speak to each other.”

It didn’t matter. I didn’t care how awkward it was going to be. All that mattered was that finally I was going to become a Colorado wolf. Finally, I could train with others, with a pack. I could feel like I belonged.

“What are you going to do about that, by the way? ’Cause something definitely needs to be done. The sexual tension between you two is sickening.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I pressed my lips together tightly, shooting Nero a particular look that I hoped successfully conveyed the message of ‘shut your damn mouth’.

“Is that so?” He raised an eyebrow, looking far too amused. “Keep telling yourself whatever you want. Something’s going to give, eventually.”

***

They came for me that night.

Sandra and Lorcan were the ones to collect me from my bedroom where I had been waiting, thinking that Nero was wrong, and tonight would not be the night I was initiated into the pack. Idaho’s initiation ritual began at solar noon, 12 p.m., when the sun was at its highest point. The sun had set two hours ago.

“Have you ever been to a pack initiation before?” Lorcan was the one to speak up, surprising me. We had barely interacted in the entire month that I had been here. I could blame his busy schedule, but Sandra shared the same weight of responsibility and she had had no trouble socialising with me at all times of the day. I could only assume that he simply had no desire to talk to me, which was understandable considering I was a new wolf that had made little effort to bond with others, either. That was something I would have to change.

“No.” I knew each pack had their own specific initiation rituals, most finalising with a pack run across the territory with the shifted wolves. I couldn’t run with the pack, so I had never been a part of the ritual before. An official initiation wasn’t necessary for born pack members or pups, but whenever a new wolf transferred, the whole pack was invited to join and welcome them. Countless days I had spent sat with my mom in our cabin, listening to the howls as the pack grew a wolf larger.

Sandra and Lorcan shared a grin.

I swallowed heavily, my mouth suddenly too dry. It was happening. It was finally happening.

“You’re going to love it,” Sandra expressed giddily. How long had I been waiting for this?

Since I had first heard the whispers of Colorado.

As pups we had always heard stories of the enforcer pack- all wildly exaggerated - telling of strong immortal warriors that could tear you apart with a single swipe of their claws, that could boil your blood just from staring into your eyes. They were revered and feared.

So many times had I heard pups longing to join them, but that was before we knew the condition. That only a wolf whose soul had been ripped from them, and held captive by the hands of death, could join. Only a wolf victim to the loss of their mate was welcome.

And yet here I was, anyway.

“Take your shoes off,” Lorcan commanded, already undressing himself until he was completely naked. Sandra did the same.

My trainers came off in a hurry, my feet pressing into the cool, damp soil and leaves beneath them. They led me, naked and unashamed of themselves, towards the forest.

Under the dark blanket of night, Sandra’s muscular ivory back glowed pearlescent, her battle scars like bolts of lightning across her skin, her arms a startling black from her tattooed sleeves. Lorcan’s smooth brown back bled into dark whorls of tattoos that spread out from the centre of his spine, arching towards his ribs, reaching for the nape of his neck. In the moonlight, his skin and the tattoos were almost indistinguishable.

At the edge of the trees, they paused ahead of me. Sandra turned back, meeting my eyes for a second before she dropped to her knees and began the shift. Twin to her actions, Lorcan’s heavy body fell, his knees thudding against the forest floor. I watched, transfixed as always, as they shifted from man to wolf. Their bodies snapped, the two wolf’s backs arched in unison with a snarl on their lips. Skin shifted, hair grew, and bone broke until fingernails were claws and blunt teeth were sharp fangs.

Lorcan’s grey wolf rose to its feet, circling around me as Sandra nuzzled her brown snout into the palm of my hand, purring as she brushed up against me. Sandra’s fur seemed thicker than Lorcan’s, making the male wolf appear leaner despite his extra height, though both were still much thinner than was common in wolves in Idaho. I had seen both wolves shift from a distance multiple times in the last month, but this was the first time I had interacted with them. I stayed still, allowing Sandra’s wolf to scent me until she pulled away and we were moving again.

The two wolves led me into the forest, deeper and deeper into the trees, up steep inclines of forgotten paths in the dirt. It was dark, and while my eyes were sharp and could see better than any human, I allowed the two wolves to lead me, for I knew their sight was better.

The moon, out full, bathed us in her ethereal light as we trekked through the ancient trees until finally they grew thin and a small clearing became visible.

My eyes were first drawn to the Alpha male. Stood alone atop a flat, circular slab of rock that jutted from the ground sharply at an acute angle, he was clad in only shorts. His bare feet were grounded solid against the rock that seemed to whisper, a siren’s call; come closer, come closer, come closer, child of the moon.

Beneath the moonlight his dark hair gleamed and his eyes seemed to glow brilliant silver, his usually tanned skin was awash with a cool radiance, the shadows cast against him, forcing his already impressive muscles to seem prominent, harsh, against his tall figure.

He was a frightening image. A true son of the Moon Goddess, basking in her light. Alpha.

Our eyes locked, and I shuddered beneath the weight of his gaze. His expression was nothing but taut lines, and I could only explain his features as pure savagery itself. Beneath his skin was a snarling beast, waiting to be set free.

Beside him, bare feet pressed heavy in the soil, Adriel awaited our arrival - the gentle counterpart to brutal Alpha. He offered me a warm smile, his golden hair loose and messy, tangled around his face like flames. He too was undressed, his broad shoulders on show. This was the first time I had seen Adriel in any state of undress and actually looked at him, my eyes taking in every detail, and I noted the many scars across his chest, decorating his skin like tattoos.

He was a warrior, a survivor, a wolf undefeated. Beta.

Sandra’s wolf rumbled from beside me, stalking slowly across the clearing to join her family. She curled around Adriel’s legs, her fur brushing against him in a show of affection. I could see her fangs from here, as she snarled in approval when Adriel’s hand caressed her head. Sharp bones capable of tearing through prey without a second thought. With each step of the wolf, the muscles beneath the fur shifted - contracting and relaxing - powerful muscles that pushed her and her hunting pack to be the apex predators of this territory. And yet it was with gentle movements she embraced her pack mates.

Lorcan, from behind me, nudged me forward with his snout; one step, then two, then three. His encouragement was soft and composed, everything that contrasted with the ruthless wolf I had seen day after day on the training field.

This was my pack, my pack mates. I felt my chest swell with immeasurable pride. This was the pack I had heard only stories about in my younger years. The pack of wild wolves blessed by the Gods, that embraced their savagery, that were born to hunt and install fear into the hearts of weaker wolves. But they were so much more than the stories told. They were loving and tender, and they were loyal.

No one else in the pack was present. No one else needed to be.

Come closer, come closer, the trees now called. I found Alpha Harris’ attention again. His hand outstretched towards me, thick fingers curling, drawing me closer instantly, my feet moving of their own accord.

Lorcan followed - protector - guarding my path to the Alpha.

I reached them, at last, and Adriel offered me his arm as support as I scaled the rock. It was ice beneath my feet, shooting awareness through my whole body, dispelling the fog that had settled amongst me from the moment the forest had first spoken. I was here, solid, rooted to the earth.

“Emily,” the Alpha wolf greeted, his tone abrasive against my skin, a feral gleam in his eyes. He was wild, on edge, his beast too close to the surface. I noticed it then, the extended claws from his mortal hands, his finger stretching towards me. As if on instinct, I offered my hand to him, my palm facing the moon.

My small hand was grasped in his heavy one, the other hand moving to graze the delicate palm with his claw. And then the pressure grew weighted, the sharp tip slicing into flesh, pain burning through me. Crimson stained my pale skin, blood smearing across my palm.

I knew he was speaking, chanting; could hear the deep murmur in the shell of my ears. But my heart beat too fast, my blood pulsing through my body faster than it should, and I could decipher no distinguishable words.

He stepped closer to me, our hands the only thing between us, and his head bent low. Rather than bring my hand to his mouth, his head stooped, bowing before me so his lips could press against the wound. I felt his tongue bathe the cut. I could feel my blood run down his throat. I could feel the humming of his veins.

Was this what all wolves felt when they experienced the overwhelming power of an Alpha? There was a thrum of energy that pulsed from him in waves. But I didn’t want to kneel before him and submit to his strength. I wanted to bask in the energy that reached out towards me and seeped into my bones. His blood scorched hot, his power curling around my body in a tight grasp.

And then my hand was at my side, and I was being presented with his bloodied palm. I reached for his hand and pulled it up to my mouth. There was no hesitation as I drank from his hand. I was staring at his face, at the sight of my dark blood staining his lips, smeared across his chin, his cheeks, along the scruff of his jaw; at the dark eyes that buried into my soul as I devoured his.

His hand ripped away from me, and the Alpha stepped away to the edge of the stone platform. It left me panting, my chest heaving with each laboured breath as my body struggled at the separation.

The Alpha’s expression twisted into something of untamed beauty, a grin curving sharply across his lips.

“Welcome to the pack.”

And then he shifted. It was slow, so much slower than any wolf I had seen, his skin tearing apart, a scream on his lips. This was agony for him and yet he didn’t stop, not until a wolf stood in his place, larger than any I had ever seen.

His fur was entirely black, an impossibility, something I had never seen in all my life. Wolves weren’t black; they were brown, grey, even sometimes red, but a black wolf... that was something of nightmares.

I had heard rumours that the Alaska Alpha was a magnificent beast, that no one ever faced his wolf and lived. Glances had only ever been caught of him, a hulking mass of black fur, fangs longer the fingers and eyes blood curdling red.

But those were only rumours.

Yet here an Alpha stood, tall and strong, fur as black as a hell-hound, eyes shining silvers.

I didn’t move, didn’t flinch, not even as his wolf snarled at me, not even as it stalked closer until I could feel its breath on my skin.

“It’s time for the run.” Adriel’s deep voice dragged me from my stupor. The beta gestured for me to step down, to return to the earth.

“I- I can’t.” My throat clenched around the words.

“You set the pace.” He pressed, his point enforced by a pointed, stern stare. “We follow.”

I swallowed, nodding, somewhat distracted, my mind whirling. I had never dreamed of taking part in a pack run, of racing across the territory with my pack at my side. But now the chance had been offered to me like a gift wrapped in gold.

So that night I ran with the wolves.

I was fast, faster than any human could dream to be, but still so much slower than the wolf. But it didn’t matter, for my pack mates stuck true to their word and never rushed forth into the night. They remained by my side for as long as my legs could carry me until we were back by the main house and I was ready to collapse into sleep.