Fated to the Alpha

2

The wolf with the bloody snout walked up to me, its mouth puffing smoke, its eyes a display of frenzy.

“Little girl, now why on earth would you give us such a chase?” he growled. Again, the voice didn’t come from the wolf. It came from within my head.

I hadn’t exactly prepared for a scenario where I’d be forced to communicate with a pack of telepathic wolves. I couldn’t reply. Part of it was the fear of what would follow, and part of it was the craziness of the situation itself. I knew before moving to Rapid Falls with my mother that the area was teeming with natural flora and fauna, but not to this extent.

The wolves seemed to be conferring amongst themselves as they growled and barked at each other. My feet were barely holding on to the fickle ground at the edge of the hilltop.

It was clear to me that this was both a psychotic break and a very real occurrence. Yes, the wolves were real. There was no way my delusional mind was capable of creating such an intricate hallucination—a hallucination with me on the top of the hill with thirteen wolves.

But the part where I was listening to one of them communicate with me telepathically, and the part where their eyes glowed red, that was unreal. It had to be.

The jury was still out on whether Estelle was really dead or just a part of my deteriorating mental condition.

Of all the ways I had imagined I would die, this was not one of them. Mom had warned us all when we moved to Rapid Falls that there would be a lot of wildlife there. Mom had also warned that moving to Rapid Falls was almost akin to moving to a third-world country, given how rural the place was.

What mom had failed to mention was how dangerous this place was going to be.

If only I hadn’t lost my mind back in Chicago, we wouldn’t have been here. If I were normal, I’d still have a normal life back in South Side, with my friends, my old high school, and my very cushy job. I was on top of the world. Until the accident, that was.

And now, here I was. Trapped against a drop with wolves approaching me. The amateur biologist in me was frantically analyzing what sort of wolves these were. Indiana was home to many different wildlife species, including the Canis Lupus, or gray wolf, if you will.

These wolves were not gray. They were taller than the wolves I’d seen behind bars at the San Diego Zoo. A regular wolf weighed between seventy pounds and a hundred-seventy pounds. Given the demeanor and stature of these wild wolves, I was certain they weighed somewhere between two to five hundred pounds. Maybe that was the panic thinking on my behalf.

Maybe not.

They were taller than any beast I’d seen. The one with the bloodied muzzle was almost as tall as me.

This was it. Either get chewed to bits by the wolves or dive into the crashing waves of the river and break every bone in my body.

Living was overrated anyway.

As I took another step back, the remaining clouds gave way to the full moon. It shone in splendor, lighting up the entire night sky with its luminescence.

From where I’d ascended the hill, a figure appeared. It didn’t take me long to recognize the American-map cap, the leather jacket, and the plaid shirt. Some nerve this guy had, sitting there all smug in the diner, not listening to a word of what I’d been saying, and now just appearing so casually in front of me and the wolves like he was on an evening stroll.

The wolves howled and growled at him as he approached me. He didn’t pay them any heed. As he came up to me, I got a chance to see past the large jacket collars that had been hiding his face.

It was Brandon Caufield, the quarterback for Rapid Falls High. I sat behind him in Calculus class today.

Brandon grabbed me by my shoulders, blinked at me, and then threw me off the hill. While falling, I couldn’t help but remember the time my dad used to read Alice in Wonderland to me when I was a kid.

In another moment, down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again.

The last thing I saw before I fell was Brandon facing the wolves.

Brandon shifting into an even bigger wolf.

Brandon howling as the wolves rushed at him.

Brandon leaping into the pack.

And then I could see no more. The pure weightlessness of falling off the hill had enveloped me, making me feel helpless, ecstatic, relieved, and sad, all at once.

I closed my eyes and crossed my arms as I crashed into the raging waters.

2

Brandon

Had I not spent my entire childhood diving off the top of Rapid Hill into the river below, I would have never thrown Alice off of it. The river was all bark and no bite. I could not say the same for these wolves.

The Howls—yes, that’s what they called themselves, which should give one an idea about their collective mental caliber—had been wreaking havoc of late as if we needed more chaos on top of the Department of Preternatural Control on our tails. A terrible time for wolf packs to be in discord with each other, for sure.

However, tonight, they had crossed a line. Three lines, to be very specific. They had stepped into the bounds of Rapid Falls. They had murdered an innocent woman. And lastly, they had sought to harm their own kind.

Alice did not know that she was a werewolf, which had proven to be quite tenebrous to me. How was I supposed to talk to her? Tell her that ever since the moment she had walked into class a week earlier, I had felt in my heart the bond that we were meant to share?

The bond of fated mates.

I was getting ahead of myself. Right now, I was surrounded by an entire rival pack right at the brink of the reservation. I couldn’t let them go anywhere near my home, where my family, the Creed of the Wolf, lived. That was sacred ground. It was forbidden for blood to be spilled there.

Yet, I was not able to fight the wolves alone. It was sheer madness to think that I could take on thirteen of the angriest, rowdiest, and blood thirstiest werewolves all by myself.

The moon strengthened me. The spirit of Briar Wolf, the strongest of our kind, looked over me. I knew it. Whenever I felt alone and overpowered, I remembered Briar Wolf, the most courageous wolf ever. I could feel him in my veins. I could feel the power surging through my being.

I looked up at the moon and howled, hoping against hope that my pack would respond.

“That was folly, kindred. You let our prey escape. You foil us, youngling. You’ve come in our way for the last time,” their alpha, a grizzly wolf by the name of Terror Trevor, snarled as he approached me.

“It is not the mark of the wolf to ambush weak prey. It is the mark of jackals. You should change your name from the Howls to the Cackles,” I said. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I was scared.

But the sound of paws stamping on the ground comforted me. I could feel the bond I shared with my kin and kith strengthen as they neared. Suddenly, my brethren, my pack jumped out from behind the trees and appeared in the hilltop’s clearing, surrounding the Howls.