Alpha Mazikeen

Being the child of an alpha is one thing. Being the first born son, complete nightmare. Being the first born child, daughter and ONLY living child of an alpha? Pure Hell. My father is Alpha Rafe of Crescent Moon Pack. We aren’t the biggest but we also aren’t the smallest. Alpha Rafe has built this pack from basically nothing. He was a sigma rogue, as was his Beta Kinney. Together they decided to create Crescent Moon. The pack is his pride and joy. He not only ensures his warriors are some of the strongest, but he cares for each and every one of them like family. The family he never though he’d have again. My father didn’t meet my mother, Arlena, until he was twenty-seven. Most werewolves, especially Alphas, meet their mate shortly after their eighteenth birthday. My father waited nine years for my mother. They met at a treaty meeting with a nearby pack, the pack that made my father a rogue. My mother was a servant to the Luna of their pack and when they refused to release her of her duties my father slaughtered the alpha and anyone who dared keep my mother from him. It was the love story of the ages. However, it wasn’t happily ever after. My mother got pregnant immediately. She had a baby boy named Shiva, my older brother. A couple years later she had me, Mazikeen. Unfortunately, word of my fathers success at building a bigger, stronger pack spread quickly and envy created enemies. Those enemies, a neighboring pack, managed to gain my fathers trust just long enough to kidnap my mother and brother. As Luna and future alpha they were valuable, me not so much. When my father refused to turn over his pack and his title they murdered my mother and brother. My father lost it and killed every single member of their pack, men, women and children, with his warriors. Left no one standing to even remember this packs name. I was a baby at the time, I don’t remember much of his grieving process, or who he was in the years following or even before the murders. My first memory of my father is my sixth birthday. He told me this story and asked if I was ready to protect the pack at all costs, no matter what. Of course eager to please I nodded my little head vigorously and my training began that day. Every year on my birthday he told me this story to remind me what I was doing it for. My father had me homeschooled by some of the best teachers money could buy and I was trained as a warrior every minute I wasn’t learning or sleeping. I was taught the basics, reading, writing, arithmetic, until I was ten and phased for the first time. Then those subjects slowly disappeared and were replaced by all things pack related. I learned alpha etiquette, war strategies, financial planning and accounting, hospitality, business, anything and everything that would help my father run the pack house smoothly. Or so I thought. From the moment my mother died my fathers health slowly deteriorated. By my seventeenth birthday he was in a wheelchair struggling to breathe on his own. Once again he told me the story of my mother, except this time his eyes brimmed with tears. “Maze you have been training your entire life, do you even understand what for?” He asked as a single tear slid down his cheek. “Of course daddy, to help you run the pack until you find a successor” I replied with the upmost confidence. “Maze you are my successor.” He whispered as he cupped my face in his hand I was suddenly flooded with panic. He’d officially lost it. A woman couldn’t be Alpha. It was unheard of. Unorthodox. Impossible. “Daddy I.. I can’t..” for the first time in years I saw my father smile. “Baby, I’ve already paved the way. You are the strongest warrior I have, the smartest, most strategic advisor, the pack adores you, and you are the only one left of my blood.” My biggest insecurity bubbled to the surface “But.. they won’t take me seriously.” My father sat up straight, puffed out his chest and gave me a stern look before stating “you, Mazikeen, will make them.” That was the last real conversation I had with my father. Over the next year his Beta began transitioning all of his responsibilities to me and on my eighteenth birthday I woke to a handwritten note from my father and a little black box. Mazikeen My fiercest, loyalest, warrior. I have the upmost faith that you will continue to build and strengthen this pack. Tonight you be crowned alpha. You’re ready. I held on to see you to this day, but I miss my dear Arlena and I cannot make her wait any longer. Your mother would be so proud of you, your brother envious of everything you’ve become. Remember, You MAKE them accept you and respect you. Never accept anything less. With everlasting love, Daddy My heart dropped to my stomach and I raced to my fathers room. It was empty.