In the ALPHA'S CLAWS

Without options.

Abby remained at the door as the alpha entered the house. She couldn't help but wonder what a werewolf could talk about with a witch; in fact, she never believed that those two creatures could come together. At least, that's not what her books said. From what she had read about werewolves, these were creatures that usually kept themselves away from other forest dwellers, only in contact with other members of their pack, but never with witches, let alone humans. Yet, there they were.

She never thought she would be in the company of a werewolf in the middle of the night, who, by the way, seemed to have her kidnapped, or at least that's what it looked like. In a way, though, it suited Abby because she was aware that without the company of that man, she wouldn't have survived in the forest. Although it seemed a bit premature to use the word "survive" at the moment.

Samael entered the cabin without even bothering to knock; he simply opened the door and walked in. He knew the witch would be waiting for him, considering she used to brag about seeing the future, so he imagined Lamya already knew this would happen. He entered, but was surprised to find her not by the fireplace or in the living room. So, he headed to the kitchen and finally found her. The witch was waiting for him; she wasn't even surprised when she saw him. She was sitting in what appeared to be the living area of her house, consisting of a small wooden table with two chairs on either side. Samael was impatient, so he didn't want to waste time. That's why he walked quickly toward her but stopped a few short meters before reaching her because the scent of silver dust made him pause. Silver was a great enemy of werewolves, and that annoyed Samael as he saw it as an offense. Was the witch trying to confront him?

"Do you think you can stay safe inside that circle?" he asked, looking at the circle of silver dust surrounding the chair where the witch was seated.

"I know this silver dust couldn't stop you at your best, but we both know you're not as strong as you think, at least not like before," the old woman commented, taking a cup of tea in front of her and bringing it to her lips. She pretended to be in control of the situation, but the reality was that she couldn't be, even if she wanted to. The nature of werewolves made any plan she had difficult because they were not usually skilled negotiators. Those beasts were guided by instincts, and right now, Samael's instincts urged him to attack.

Samael's eyes began to turn red as he fought against himself not to succumb to the provocations of the old woman. If he got angry now, he would transform into a werewolf, and the beast inside him didn't usually bring answers; it usually ended up destroying any life around him. He couldn't kill the old woman, not yet. And, of course, he didn't want to kill a human either, at least not yet.

He fought against himself, preventing the transformation, as it caused him pain, just like when he turned. It was deeply painful, but the beast could endure it; the problem was the human within him, as he suffered from it. Lately, whenever he transformed, he tended to lose control like never before. When he was an alpha, he had control over himself, but since he was expelled from his pack, everything changed in his life, and now he would wake up covered in blood without remembering where it came from, in most cases. It was as if his nature had split in two, and sometimes one part would forget what the other did. Ever since that moment, there had been days when he would simply appear covered in blood after transforming into a werewolf.

"Don't make me angry, you damned witch. I don't have time to waste, so just tell me what you didn't tell me last time I visited you," he said, annoyed, getting closer to her but maintaining a distance as his gaze shifted from the floor to her.

"Do you feel it?" the old woman asked, lost in her thoughts.

"What do you mean?" he asked, diverting his gaze towards the door just to make sure he could still hear the young woman's heartbeat.

"Do you feel the power returning to your body?" she asked, grabbing his attention.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, bewildered. "You're testing my patience, damn it," he said, clenching his hand into a fist, exerting so much force that his knuckles turned red.

"You don't possess that virtue, Wolf. We both know you never had patience, so something that doesn't exist can't be exhausted," the old woman remarked, maintaining her composure, although she knew she didn't have much time left. She continued speaking, "And you know well what I'm referring to; otherwise, a human wouldn't still be alive at the portal of my house," she replied, bringing the cup to her lips and drinking the tea.

"I won't fall for your games. I don't want you to confuse me any longer. I came for answers, and you'll give them to me as soon as possible," he threatened, as veins on his arms bulged, revealing his claws emerging from his hands. He was losing control; he would transform soon. There wasn't much time to talk, so the witch hastened the conversation.

"Ask me a question, and I'll give you the answer," she replied, placing the cup on the table. At this moment, she felt more powerful than ever, as she had that lone wolf at her mercy, who had been called the strongest of them all for many years but now was just a miserable, vengeful loner.

"Why couldn't I kill her?" he finally asked.

"There are two answers to that question, but I'll tell you the one you're ready to hear," she began. "Your instinct prevented you from doing it because it's what's best for you. She isn't as simple as you think; in fact, that human isn't even as human as she appears. Being in her presence or staying close to her strengthens you, and I know you've noticed it. Because we both know that since the night of the incident with your moon, you've ceased to be who you were, and your power, along with your strength, died with your other half," she started to say, but she was interrupted by the grinding of Samael's teeth, and upon hearing about his moon, all that pain and anger intensified within him.

"Don't mention her again, or I'll kill you," he threatened.

"I know you're capable of it, that's why I seek refuge here. Not only for my well-being, but also for yours. Samael, the gods have seen you, and something tells me they want to end your suffering by finally helping you. They are going to give you a second chance," she commented, but Samael denied it.

"I have no gods, no destiny. I just want to kill her, but I can't, and I must know the damn reason," he said desperately as he began to transform. The man's screams began to resonate through the walls.

"You need me, and you also need her. So go and kill something else, then come back to me for all the answers," the witch told him, somewhat frightened by the creature in front of her. Right now, that werewolf was slowly approaching Lamya, observing her like a predator observes its prey.

"Don't do it," the witch practically begged, looking at him. She knew it was useless to try to reason with him, but at least she would try. She was also aware that destiny would not allow her to die because it needed her to guide that wild man. However, it wouldn't be the first time that a wounded heart has disrupted destiny's plans, and sometimes pain prevails over the future. That was what worried the witch the most—Samael's pain made him unpredictable and dangerous.

The werewolf moved in for an attack but couldn't do it as touching the silver dust injured his paw. The dust burned him, causing him to retreat. The witch breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that her plan had worked, but her smile disappeared when she looked in the direction the beast's attention turned to—the door. He was angry, and that beating heart irritated him even more. He had to unleash all that fury; he really wanted to, even though a part of him seemed to do everything possible to avoid it, another part simply desired revenge, and now that beast had taken control of the man.

"Don't kill her," the old woman shouted desperately, but she didn't move from her spot out of fear. She simply watched as the werewolf started heading towards the young woman.

Meanwhile, Abby stood with a vacant gaze at the dark forest that surrounded her. It was ironic how, despite being frightened by the scenery around her, she felt calm with the fear.

Time had passed, and she started to worry. She had heard countless stories about witches and knew very well that they couldn't be trusted, especially if you were a man—that's what her father used to say. She let out a long, loud sigh as she pondered her next move. Should she enter the house and search for the werewolf? Or would it be better to wait here, since that man seemed perfectly capable of taking care of himself? Doubt began to unsettle her just as her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a horrifying scream from inside the cabin, which startled the young woman. She placed a hand on her chest, trying to calm the pounding of her heart, but it was impossible as she was extremely frightened now. Suddenly, more screams were heard from inside, and she thought she heard Samael's voice, causing her to almost walk towards the door when another voice stopped her.

"Do not kill her," shouted an old woman. The sound echoed through the walls and reached Abby's ears. At this point, her whole body trembled, while her gaze remained fixed on the door. She feared the worst, and her fear was confirmed when the creature she dreaded emerged from inside the cabin. She began to walk backward slowly, trying to distance herself, but she found herself in shock, causing her movements to be clumsy, while the man-wolf closed in on her. His eyes were red, and she could see the malevolence in them, something she hadn't seen in the brown eyes of the man who had saved her from the river and embraced her in the cave. It was ironic, really, considering they were one and the same person.

As Abby continued to stumble backward, her foot collided with a piece of wood on the ground, causing her to fall backwards, her head hitting the grass. The man-wolf leaped toward her, and she instinctively covered her face with her hands, knowing it would be futile to try to protect herself from harm. She closed her eyes, waiting for her death, but it never came. After a few moments, she realized the creature was no longer there.

However, the danger was far from over. As she looked toward the cabin door, she saw an old woman with white hair and a small frame observing her. Without a doubt, this was the witch they had come to see, and perhaps the same woman who had caused the alpha's transformation. Abby wondered what this old woman had done to make him so furious, but she wasn't entirely certain of the answer.

"Come inside," the old woman commanded. Abby's heart pounded so hard she thought it might give out. "You'll freeze out there. Come in. I won't harm you, child," she said, her voice sweet and harmless. But the youngest of the Hamiltons knew better than to trust a witch. However, as she looked around and saw only trees and darkness, her stomach growled, betraying her.

Now she had two options: to die at the hands of a deranged man-wolf or under the spell of the witch. Abby was so hungry that she was certain if she ran away, she would die of starvation. So she only had one option that might keep her alive. Furthermore, she didn't dare admit it aloud, but what convinced her the most was when the old woman said, "He will come for you." Though it was a twisted thought, she wanted to see that man again. Not the beast that frightened her, but the man with brown eyes who had saved her from hypothermia with a warm embrace. It wasn't a dream; it had happened, and she couldn't stop thinking about it. She knew they were one and the same creature, but she couldn't help but feel that she would only be safe with him. That's why she stood up, feeling a bit defeated, and walked toward the door of the cabin. Before entering, she glanced at the witch, who gave her a kind smile that sent shivers down her spine. Nobody had ever been kind to her, and she was sure no good would come from someone's kindness. Everyone sought their own benefits, and she knew that all too well.

"Take it easy, you can come in. You're safe here," the witch said, inviting her to keep walking, but Abby shook her head from side to side.

"I'm not safe anywhere," she commented, staring directly into the witch's eyes.

"In that, you're right, little one," the old woman replied, smiling again, and entered the cabin, leaving the door open. Abby turned her gaze back to the trees, looking in the same direction where the beast had gone. She sighed and, without any other choice, entered the witch's cabin. She never had a choice to begin with. When she lived at home, everyone made decisions for her, but now that she finally seemed to be making her own choices, she felt like others were still choosing for her or forcing her to choose. She knew deep down that everything that had happened was somehow part of the witch's plan, and that scared her. She had never had control over her life, but now that she finally seemed to have it, everyone around her was controlling her. But she wouldn't let the witch do the same. Maybe she was alone right now, but she would survive whatever she was about to encounter.

She glanced one last time at the outside and sighed, closing her eyes and whispering a few words to the moon. In her heart, there was only one wish, and that was to see him again.