Alma

Chapter Two: Alma

Arms wrap around my torso and the power of a dominant male floods over me, but I stand my ground and don't so much as flinch. I feel the power all right, but it is equal to mine, and I will not bow to someone unless I have to. This is not a time when I have to, and it only pisses me off more. I try to drag my claws down the arms of the wolf behind me, but the growl at my ear stops it. He has full access to my throat right now, meaning one wrong move and my blood would spill. Probably a good time to bow down.

My wolf snarls in my head, refusing. She wants to end the Oni. The male, however, has different ideas as he carries my kicking and snarling ass from the fight. The struggle ends when my enemy is gone, and my assailant sets me down, but not without a command. "Phase back."

His words are garbled, but relatively understandable. He is in warrior form too, but I don't particularly care. I am not going to obey. "f**k off."

Surprise fills his gray eyes as my words register; then they begin to glow amber as his wolf looks at me. My own wolf rises up as well, and we begin a silent standoff. After what feels like a couple of minutes, but was probably only around 30 seconds of muted snarling and unblinking challenge, the male raises his hands to show he doesn't see me as a threat before looking away. That bastard, I huff to myself. My wolf purrs in the back of my head, not agreeing but not disagreeing either.

Something about this male strikes me as familiar; I need to get my wolf back in her cage. I take a few deep breaths, watching the male in front of me as he refuses to meet my challenge. When I am finally calm enough, I pull back my wolf enough to only have my claws extended. "Who are you?"

The question is out of my mouth before I can stop it. The male only smiles. "You sure seem like someone who shouldn't be talking right now."

I glare as I manage to keep my wolf in check. "That's not an answer, asshole."

"Well, someone is out of control right now."

"Yeah? Who," the question is sincere. I have control, just not a lot.

The male raises one dark eyebrow in response and I want to claw him, but I don't think that would end in my favor. "Why did you stop me?"

"Didn't think one of mine should die today. An Oni?"

"Yeah, an Oni. I wasn't going to obey him, performing whatever trick he wants. Breed doesn't matter when it comes to being a dickhead."

"You have quite the vocabulary."

His calm tone and demeanor is driving me insane, but my wolf is listening to it, which piss me off even more. Why must someone interrupt my only outlet?

Normally, I would have a pack to draw strength on when needed, such as keeping my wolf calm and myself sane. Sadly, with everyone thinking they know my story, I have been effectively removed from the temporary pack bonds the school has in place-- pack shifters will naturally bond with others of their kind when housed long enough, while maintaining a distant connection to their home packs. It makes everyone’s smell similar, but also different, because we have our individual scents mixed with both of our pack scents-- school and home. It helped prevent dominance fighting, though not as much as the school would like. Not having the bonds for five years, and barely a pack bond connecting me home made me irritable and testy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not completely without friends. I have a small pack of outcasts here on campus-- the rejects and the half-bloods that no one else wanted. It was a mismatched pack, but a support system nonetheless, and I’m sure I would have either killed someone or died without those bonds.

Remembering my class, I try to escape the male and the conversation. I have an obligation to Nao and to teach the course.

"Uh-huh. Excuse me, but I have--" I am stepping around him when he loops his arm around my torso again, cutting me off and stopping me, eliciting a growl from me. "Have what? I'll walk you there." Of course he would.

"No, I'll walk myself, thanks." I try to push his arm off, but it doesn't budge. "Don't make me destroy your arm too," I threaten.

The male only chuckles. "You can't hurt me."

"Cocky son of a b***h," I murmur as I try to call on my wolf, who has decided to retract our claws while he was talking; she doesn't respond.

"Only a little. It comes with the territory."

I inspect the male again. His gray eyes, pretty face that accompanies all of us monsters, and dark brown-nearly-black hair is definitely ringing bells. Alarm bells. "s**t. You're Dante."

Dante Jaxson, the most powerful shifter in the school, specifically the most powerful wolf shifter and the temporary Alpha while on campus. Also a member of my fifth year class. Of course, this is not the only reason I know him. I also have a political history class with him, required for all 22-year-old shifters. I also know Dante from training; most shifters have training at the same time.

I growl in frustration as Dante chuckles under his breath. “Right you are, Miss…”

“I ain’t no ‘Miss.’”

“So you’re mated?” He backs away from me a couple of steps out of respect, even as his words have a grated undertone, and I want to smirk. A mated female on campus would never have gotten away with fighting-- not without her mate materializing and kicking ass. And she sure wouldn’t have been as close to a male shifter as I had been-- not without discomfort as a result of the wolf calling on her mate.

Instead of smirking, I let out a hearty laugh. “Me, mated? Nah. I just ain’t no ‘Miss,’ a title that suggests I’m a polite, quiet female who is regal in stature and attitude.”

“Well, what should I call you?”

The confusion on his face is priceless. “Well, my name.”

With satisfaction, I watch as his confusion is eaten by frustration like acid. “Which is?”

“None of your business. Now, I need to go, so if you’ll excuse me.” I push past his arm, which drops this time.

“Where are you going?”

“I have a date I don’t want to be late for.”

He doesn’t need to know that the date is with the gym. “A date?”

I smirk as the alarmed words hit my ears from behind. Female shifters and dates are not a good mix. They typically lead to fights, frustration, and death. The worry in Dante’s voice was smart on his part. The anger, not so much. I wave him off as I continue toward the gym, where I had been going when the Oni said we could burn off some energy in other ways.

Stepping around the blood on the stone walkway, I grab my bag off of the ground. The Oni had left after Dante dragged me away, luckily. As I bend over to grab my phone from my bag, I see Dante behind me. Stalker much? Well, he could be headed to the gym as well, so I don’t say anything. Instead, I ignore him as I bump the heavy doors to the gym with my shoulder, scanning the packed place until I find a punching bag that offers the smallest chance of a fight, even if I wouldn’t be opposed to another round or two. My wolf is on edge after discussing my mated status and my inability to run. I can feel her fur brushing against my skin as she lets me know she is at the surface, even if she doesn’t want to talk. Normally, my wolf is either silent or in control, not in and out like bad cell service. I choose a punching bag in the back of the main room, giving me a clear view of the door and two walls at my back; this selection seems to placate my wolf, backing away from the surface a little, though I still feel her breath in the back of my mind.

No sooner than the time it takes me to set up, some shifter male walks up to me, demanding I find another place to practice. “Um, no. I don’t think so.”

The fur is back under my skin, making me want to itch all over, while my wolf lifts her hackle and bares her teeth. She needs to get out or she is going to go feral. I silently plead with her to back down-- if we lose control again we could be thrown in isolation or even executed for feral behavior-- I am already on thin ice with the school board.

“Well sweetheart, I got rank on you, so beat it.”

I look at this male, who is definitely a fox shifter. His cat-yellow eyes and dark red hair give him away, along with his slight build. Wolves are built more like human baseball players, foxes and coyotes more like swimmers. Bear shifters are large and burly, while feline shifters have a lithe appearance. “I’m not in your tribe. You have nothing on me.”

“I actually do. You’re female. Judging by the lack of a mark on your neck, you’re unmated. You’re nothing, no matter your tribe.”

I snarl as my wolf claws come out again. Gods damn it, I cannot catch a break today, from other people or my wolf. I shove against the animal in my head, telling her not again, not today, especially as Dante walks through the door. He would have my hide; but I’m not moving-- neither my wolf nor my pride let me move a single foot, even as my logic argues that it is the smart thing to do. The male flinches at the snarl and dominant aura I know I’m leaking through the room. “I suggest you walk away before I decide I don’t care that my Alpha is over there.”

The fox looks over his shoulder and sees Dante standing there, unabashedly staring at us. He turns back to me and fear causes his face to lose color, turning him from pale to ghostly. “Yeah. Now, I am already in trouble for fighting an Oni about fifteen minutes ago so… Truce? You spot me for a bit, and I’ll reciprocate.”

The fox only nods and sticks out his hand, which I readily shake. “Mark,” he says.

“Alma.”

No sooner had we greeted each other than we began. Mark held the bag while I threw a series of punches and kicks that would crush bones if they had been an opponent. Half an hour later, switching places with Mark, I found Dante still watching us. “So, why did you want this particular bag?”

My question seems to catch Mark off-guard and he stumbles before his next kick. “Well, it's, uh, a safe place.”

I nod, studying Mark. “What’s your rank?”

The fox troop on campus is small, around fifty students; the wolf pack? Around three hundred. Aside from their troop size, most are submissive-- fox troops around the world prefer to teach their dominant children at home because of dwindling numbers in the population. But, by not utilizing the Academies sprinkled like gravel in sand around the world, the fox troops are simply contributing to destroying their numbers. Vreake Academy, and those like it, are the most common place mates, given it is one of the only places that is true neutral territory.

Mark darts his eyes away from my scrutiny, taking a few more swings before answering. “Um… top five.” That isn’t saying much.

Looking closer at Mark, I notice he is not as slender or short as most fox shifters-- he could easily have some coyote or even wolf in him, or maybe just human. Shifters are able to find mates within the different branches, though not often.

“Huh. How often do you run?” I know my question is a bad idea, but I need to run, and Mark seemed as good a person as any; my wolf wasn’t objecting to it, so why not?

“About… once a… month… why?” He asks between punches.

“Because I need a running partner.”

The question stops Mark in his tracks. “What?”

I sigh dramatically. “I’m a half-blood, and to run, I need someone there with me. Otherwise, I’m stuck in my human or wolf skin.”

Mark flinches at the statement. “Ouch. Okay, when do you run?”

“Whenever, it doesn’t matter. I just need to get out. I haven’t run in three months, and my pack mates have refused.”

“Why?”

“You ask a lot of questions, Mark.” I step up to the bag as he backs off. “But, to answer you, phasing is slower and draining for me, and without another person there, I am either stuck in my skin or stuck in my fur.” Already I could feel the drain of shifting back.

I yawn, and back off-- I hadn’t even thrown a punch yet. I gesture for Mark to return to the bag if he wants as I beeline to my bag-- I reach into the side pocket and grab my phone, sending Nao a text. Within seconds, I am let off the hook for lessons, meaning I can go back to my room when I am done here. Looks like the day is turning around.

“Okay. How about we meet up tomorrow?”

Mark’s words shock me as I put my phone back into my bag, feigning calm-- really, I could easily jump up and down, squealing like a hog in a chase.My wolf was okay with Mark. Her fur pulls away from my skin, her hackle smoothing, tail cautiously wagging. “Oh my gods, yes,” the words rush out before I can stop them, and my wolf shows herself through my eyes-- she wanted a good look at the person we were running with.

“Woah, I don’t mean to upset—” I wave him off as my wolf gives an approving huff in my head before returning to her cage-- the action causes a wave of relief to pass over me.

“Nah, no one is upset. Excited.” I feel tears in the back of my throat, making my words a little thick.

The next half hour we held small talk, exchanging gossip from around campus. I could feel my wolf judging Mark, deciding he was trustworthy, and even extends a pack bond to him. Before Mark realizes what my wolf is trying to do, I bat her offer away-- he already has a troop, or two, and seems pretty stable with them.

Being the daughter of a powerful fae and an alpha, my wolf was dominant, Luna dominant, meaning she required many bonds to remain sane. Currently, I have my pack from home, although the connection is reedy and thin, and then my small band of misfits, which was around ten strong connections. These connections were simply not enough of a support loop for my wolf, and it's been worse since last night, when my home pack connection started decaying. My wolf is desperate for a larger pack, especially with the loss-- to even qualify as a pack, an Alpha or Luna needed fifteen members, which was just enough of a support system to keep each wolf sane. So, when my wolf finds a possible member, she isn’t above stealing, but I wasn’t going to tell Mark this. He starts for a second, pinching his ginger eyebrows together, freckles stretching over his temples and forehead, before shaking his head, continuing.