The Alpha’s Other Woman

Carrie

It was evening, just after the sun had sank beyond the horizon. Birds sang in the trees, hidden in the deepening dusk, while insects and nocturnal creatures began to stir adding their own sounds to the mix.

Stretching my legs as I walked through the forest on steady paws, I shook my brown fur and inhaled the sweet scent of nature hanging in the air around me, a medley of earth, plants, and prey. Gone were the synthetics of the shopping center where I worked most days, the clamouring chatter of my coworkers and customers, the small apartment where I was confined myself, the miserable disaster I had made of my past, the judgment, the regrets. Everything slipped away as I allowed my wolf this chance to be wild like she was meant to be.

Running under the full moon had become my monthly therapy, and my refuge away from the stress of hiding my nature amongst humans. The last thing I wanted was to accidentally reveal secrets and have the hunters coming after me. Now that I was packless, I was more vulnerable to their particular brand of brutal justice.

My wolf was mostly pleased that we were finally free while she analyzed the stimulus all around me. Even after months of human living, she still wasn’t used to being cooped up for long periods of time and was much more agreeable when I had a chance to let her out, and this night was the most important of the month.

The full moon did not force us to shift like in many legends, but it did aggravate our wolves in a way that was hard to control and even harder to ignore. The best solution to that agitation was running with the pack, but running alone would do in a pinch.

A pinch, like being a former acting luna banished to life as a rogue lone wolf. Not a glamorous life, but definitely better than my final days under the power of my former chosen mate and alpha, Asshole Dane with his precious little mate Heidi flouncing around. What a shit show that ending had been.

But now wasn’t the time for regretting the past. I shook off those bitter memories as I loped through the forest, smelling the trace scents of animals all around me, but the trails were all too cold to be worth following. I was managing to feed myself well enough from my job, but my wolf wanted the satisfaction of taking down prey and gorging herself on it.

On and on we went, slipping through the gaps between trees in the thickest parts of the forest. The urge to howl was strong within me, but like all of my night time runs, I held it back since I did not want to draw attention to myself, alone and vulnerable as I was. I scented a moose and my wolf wanted to follow it, but I rejected that instinct. I was far stronger than a natural wolf, but such large prey was difficult to take on my own. Instead, I continued on until I found the fresh scent trail of a hare and allowed my wolf to follow it through the forest.

The hare didn’t have a chance, because my wolf was faster. She killed the animal and ate it quickly, never one to play around with her food, and then an unfortunate mouse that served as another quick snack. Afterwards, she was content to simply lay about for a while in the gathering darkness, revelling in the feeling of having a stomach full of prey and not being confined in a human dwelling.

The bright moon rose higher in the sky as if it beckoned me, and my wolf wanted to move again. Between that light and my excellent low light vision, the forest looked almost as clear as day in black and white, even through the darkness.

The rush put me in high spirits in spite of the loneliness of my solitary run.

Until I encountered a scent trail that made my wolf pause and take a nervous second sniff.

It smelled of predator, of wolf and human. The unmistakeably distinct scent of a werewolf.

Although my wolf missed others of our kind, it was her pack—our former pack—she wanted, not some unknown werewolf who was as likely as not a danger to us. During my relatively short time as a packless rogue, I’d learned just how horrible pack wolves could be to those less fortunate. And a rogue wasn’t any better. Certainly there were peaceful rogues like me, but a lot of other rogues were criminals or had lost their humanity and gone feral, leaving them insane and more unpredictable than an animal.

I didn’t like my odds that these other werewolves might be harmless. Hopefully the scent was older than it smelled and I had nothing to worry about.

Then, a sound rang out that crushed my hope and chilled my blood, a powerful, eerie howl, echoing through the deepening night. Several more joined it until there was a chorus of canine voices ringing through the air, beautiful, haunting, and not nearly far enough away as I would prefer.

I whirled around and ran back the way I had come. For once my wolf was in complete agreement that we should get ourselves back to our stifling but safe apartment. She was satisfied enough with our run and she had no desire to push our luck. I’d run here many times before so I knew the forest wasn’t pack territory, which meant these wolves were most likely a group of rogues. I’d stand no chance against them.

As I ran, I kept my senses sharp to the sounds and smells around me. I discounted the formerly interesting scents of the forest to sweep for the musk of predator. I was almost to where I had parked my old beater when I picked up the scent of werewolves again. Troubled, I slowed my approach, searching for the source, as I got back to my sheltered parking spot.

Two wolves were waiting by my car. My heart pounded at the sight of the threat blocking my escape.

Unfortunately, they noticed me before I could slip away. A large light-furred wolf howled, while the other rushed towards me, braying loudly. I ran in a different direction through the forest, this time in the direction of the human city and my home. I would have to continue until I was exhausted, and it would take me hours to get there, but they would not dare to pursue and attack me amongst humans, would they? It was a loss to give up my car, but it could be replaced, unlike my throat.

I might have made it, but the single wolf on my tail was joined by another, and another, and finally, another pair managed to cut me off. I growled warningly as I was forced to stop, hackles raised. I couldn’t beat five wolves, four of them male, but I was confident I could at least get in some damage before they took me down. If I had to die, I was going to go down swinging. I swivelled my head around to keep an eye on the many threats surrounding me.

They didn’t move forward, content to keep me penned in. One of them shifted into a human with black hair and striking light coloured eyes that stood out against his medium complexion. He looked at me. “Our alpha wants to see you, trespasser.”

Trespasser? This was not a pack territory. I had encountered no other wolves on any of my previous visits, and there had been no border of scent trail or any other signs to warn me off this night. How dare they suggest I had been trespassing? I growled again.

“Your best bet is to come quietly,” he said. His voice was level and calm, and for one insane moment I almost thought I could trust him.

Instead of allowing him to lull me, I leveled my gaze at him rebelliously and bared my teeth. Although it was my best bet, I had no interest in cooperating. But for now I could play along since I could not take them all on. I just had to wait for my chance to dash away when their guards were down.

That chance did not come. Instead, I was herded forward, surrounded by these rogues playing pack, until we reached a clearing with a number of trailers and outbuildings situated around the skeletal frame of a building. It was obvious that the wide open space was a recent addition to the area, because the ground was still dug up in spots with treads of huge tires and spots where trees had been removed.

The scents of dozens of wolves met my nose, wild like rogues, but not as unpleasant as my past experience with packless wolves. Maybe it was because I now had the same scent, or maybe it was because these rogues were behaving like a pack. My wolf was still on edge, but her fear had lessened to be replaced with watchful curiosity, and some unfamiliar energy I couldn’t identify.

A spark of curiosity hit me underneath my fear. Was I witnessing the beginning of a new pack? Most packs were generations old and wolves seldom had the desire to start anew, but the original packs had to have come from somewhere, right? This was likely dangerous and risky, but it was also intriguing.

A woman in worn clothing came towards me, holding out a grey blanket. “Shift,” she said, in a no nonsense tone.

I felt exposed in front of these strangers, but I did what she said, wrapping the cloth around myself, leaving only my face, curly black hair, and feet exposed. It would have been nice to be in my own clothing or even given something proper to wear, but this was better than nothing by far.

“Come on,” she said and I did, still flanked by several wolves.

My wolf was getting increasingly excited. I tried to calm her. I knew that she missed being around other wolves because I felt it keenly as well, but this was not like being around my old pack. These people were unknown and unpredictable.

She did not care about my caution.

A man walked up to us, clearly visible in the moonlight. He was all muscle, a bit wiry, but more than adequate, with a strong jaw and dark hair. The ink of a tattoo wound up his bicep and under his t-shirt and I couldn’t help but trace it with my eyes and wonder how far it went.

Then, I met his nearly black eyes and the reason for my wolf’s excitement became crystal clear. She was overjoyed and the feeling affected me on some level, but so did my memories of the last alpha I had dared to trust. I had given him everything I could, and I’d been rewarded for my loyalty to him by being pushed too far until I broke and lost everything.

Still, this man was like no one I had ever seen before. His appearance was a like a dream I couldn’t remember come to life, and now that he was before me, it was like I had always known and wanted him.

Maybe it was worth trying to trust again...

He had been gaping at me exactly as I had been gaping at him, and then he swore under his breath. The scowl marring his forehead, confirmed the wisdom of my original misgivings. Alphas were all arrogant assholes who couldn’t be trusted and this one could be no different.

His expression seemed to be of disgust or some equally negative emotion and it reminded me of the way Asshole Dane had looked at me at the end. My heart sunk and I tried to control my shaking.

“I don’t need a mate,” he muttered.