The Alpha's Desperate Daughter

Chapter Four

Even though it’s still quite early in the morning, the sun glared high up in the sky as if it's already noon, embedding our bodies with sweat. I decided to take off my black jacket feeling quite refreshed with my black tank top on as the fresh air breezed past us while the first pair continued sparring.

Lilia—the youngest among us—threw an overhand right at her opponent, Gavin, her black braided hair whipping as she moved. However, Gavin, having quick reflexes, easily dodges it and releases a lightning-swift jab at Lilia’s side, making her fall to her knees clutching her ribs. She grunted in pain, her face contorting in a grimace while she struggled to stand up, not wanting to give Gavin another opportunity to attack her—the beta determined to take down the alpha—as she sidestepped out of his reach, creating an opening to attack Gavin’s rear supporting leg as she simultaneously pushed down hard on his chest with her arm while kicking his legs, sweeping them out from under him. Gavin falls on his back with a hard thud. Woah, smart girl!

“Go, Lilia, kill him!” Scarlett shouted her brutal encouragement, throwing her fists up in the air, being totally biased as she cheered on the beta while the other boys encouraged Gavin to stand up.

Lilia completely focused on the spar, swiftly gets on top of Gavin, not giving him any moment to recover as she puts her left knee over the top of Gavin’s right arm, her toes anchored to the ground as she puts her weight on top of him, while her arm goes under the side of his neck, the other under his armpit and squeezed them together—tightly pinning him down to the ground—effectively restraining him. Gavin struggled and tried to pry Lilia’s arms off of his neck, but Lilia had a firm hold of him—her arms and knees enclosing him in a tight spot, his face turning beet red as he gasped for air as Lilia continued squeezing. Gavin ran out of breath and had nowhere to move into, finally tapped out.

Mr. Zeemann then announces Lilia's win as Gavin concedes. Lilia, completely exhausted, laid down beside the coughing Gavin as we cheered them both on. Both of them panting and sweating profusely. The young ones grinned at each other and made a fist bump as they helped each other up to their feet.

As the first pair went out of the elevated arena after Mr. Zeemann checked on them for any serious injury. The next pair prepared themselves—the omega, Liam flexing his toned muscles while taking off his shirt and then pants as the delta’s son did the same—both of them now in their boxers. So, they’ll fight it out in their wolf form then. I thought, feeling the excitement buzzing once more as the two of the eldest ones—both twenty, crouched low on all fours readying to shift into their wolves. They both know the victor depends on who can shift and strike the fastest. But before Mr. Zeeman could signal the start of the battle, both of them shifted at lightning speed and bolted out of the arena and into the woods, howling. Earning collective grasps from us.

“Liam and Kevin, Get. Back. Here!” now it’s Mr. Zeemann’s turn to turn beet red as we chortled, realizing that the two best friends had just decided to abandon the spar and prank our delta into thinking they'd fight it out. “There will be consequences,” he added threateningly and sighed, seeing his efforts futile. Both the brownish wolves were nowhere to be seen.

“Well, that’s expected. You really can’t expect mates to fight it out, right? I bet, they’ll want to fight it out in bed instead,” Scarlett stated matter-of-factly, wiggling her arc brows at me knowingly.

I groaned at Scarlett’s lewd comment, sensing Lilia, Macey, and Edward—our youngest, both girls sixteen while Edward is seventeen—listening in on our conversation in the most indiscreet way.

“Scar, really? There are children here,” I gave her a withering look.

“Bah! They’ll know those things once they find their mates, which will be like two years from now,” she remarked dismissively.

“One for me,” Edward corrected.

“See my point?” Scarlett asked me, shrugging her shoulders. I just shook my head at them. I can’t really win an argument with this woman. “Well, so much for chit-chat. I’ll have to go and beat my little brother to a pulp.”

“You’re just five minutes older than me, Lettie,” Apollo stated, his red hair glinting under the sun as he stared down at Scarlett. His expression is not quite blank but deeply inverted, as if he's in constant boredom.

She tip-toed as she patted her brother’s head, him being a couple of heads taller than her, “Oh, Ollie,” she stated, her voice silvery—exaggeratingly light and pleasant—using each other’s pet names to drive each other mad. “You can’t argue with me. Older sisters are always right.”

He deadpanned, “If you say so.” as they both headed towards the circled arena.

BOOM-BOOM-boom-BOOM.

Loud beating sounds boomed throughout the pack territory, interrupting our combat training.

The drums.

Without thought, I interpret the varying beats into the warning signs they are meant to convey. My body went rigid. s**t, rogue attack.

Max shifted in his wolf form at lightning speed, shredding his clothes in the process as he bolted towards the direction of the pack house, him being the first one to react among us.

“Reconnaissance Attack, to your positions. Prepare for battle," our delta's voice boomed and then shifted following Max as he howled, alerting other weres of the ongoing attack. We then split into two groups. The younger ones will be the ones to gather information and perform rescue while we, the older ones, will be the ones to engage in battle.

"Where?" I asked Scarlett, my entire body becoming impossibly more still as my stomach churned, feeling an overwhelming sense of terror gripped inside me. I had an idea where the rogues were or more about where they would target first, but asked her anyway, needing to confirm my speculation with her; sensing that she must have already received first-hand information from the mind link.

"They're coming from the wood forest, west from here aiming for the pack house," she called, her features blurring as she was about to shift, her clothes ripping into shreds in the process.

I turned on my heels and ran as fast as I could, leaping over tree roots and fallen branches, dodging over bushes and leaves, ignoring how some of them bit into my skin, drawing blood, my instincts on high alert—zooming past over other weres, already in their wolf form. I may not turn into a wolf like them, but I'm second to none in terms of speed.

I reached the pack house without delay, not picking up any scent of blood or smoky wood, which is a distinct scent that rogues have.

"They haven't reached the pack house yet," I whistled in varying tones, trusting that Scarlett would be able to hear and interpret my message for her to inform and mind link everyone.

I was about to head inside the pack house, taking a mental note of my surroundings, seeing no apparent disturbance in the foyer, but a screeching howl pierced through the air, stopping me in my tracks. I stared at the dense forest, all too familiar with the howl.

No, no. It can't be him. Please, Goddess, don't let it be him. I prayed and begged the Goddess as I dashed to the northside of the woods where the howl came from. I easily traversed the dense woods already familiar with the forest, even though the woods are denser than the ones I had traversed on the eastern side where the combat training was held.

I sniffed the air, picking up a bloody woody scent, judging it's from a rogue and two other scents which I'm also familiar with: a cinnamon one and the other, petrichor—the smell of the earth after the rain. I hurried over, quick on my feet, already seeing the clearing as the trees began to thin out. Spying the ground with shredded clothes, a mix of the colors white, black, and dark blue—another confirmation that he's here. I shook my head unconsciously. No, no. You can't fight. Not yet.

As I reached the clearing, I was then greeted by a naked unconscious female 'were' in her human form sprawled on the grassy ground and two big wolves: one ash-gray, who's pinned under the snarling agouti-colored wolf—a mix of black and gray patches, having more of a grayish color with a brindle like appearance.

A sudden surge of anger coursed through my body as I watched the scene before me and gathered all of my strength, "Max get your paws off my dad," I glowered at the grayish wolf as I hurled myself at him—putting all of my weight against him—slamming my body into his furry one. The impact sent us both flying through the air.