The Beta Who Bought Me

Chapter 3 - High Moon

On my signal… The big black wolf mind-linked his two accomplices as they prepared to break through the window of Laurel’s bedroom.

And you’re sure this is the right girl? The smaller wolf to his right asked hesitantly through the link.

Are you doubting my tracking abilities, Zach?! He snapped back at the lower wolf and growled threateningly while bearing his sharp white fangs. The other two wolves were now cowering slightly under the aura of the more powerful being.

Of course not, Alpha Abel! My sincere apologies. He bared his neck in submission to the larger one.

Abel swiftly turned to the remaining wolf. You want to question me as well, Terrance?

No, sir! He tried to say firmly with confidence, but the alpha aura made him shiver under the fierce gaze of the biggest wolf, and he also bared his neck now.

F***ing wimps! He scoffed, shaking his massive head as he faced back to the window where the girl was sleeping just inside. Abel took one last deep sniff, as if he was questioning himself, but there was no mistake. This was one of the girls they needed.

Abel North led one of the strongest packs in the United States - the High Moon Pack. Their territory stretched over most of the northern part of Kentucky and down further south through the middle of the state, almost to the Tennessee line. Abel’s ancestors had settled there long before most humans had made their way from the east coast in the early days of the United States’ history.

Their family was well known for not only their ferocity and power, but also the color of their wolves. The pack prided itself on the perfection of its leaders’ pure black coats. The bloodline of their alphas went back generations, untarnished by supposedly “lesser” werewolf genetics. They quickly found that somehow the fur color also was linked to the same genetics that oversaw their physical power. Eventually, nearly all members of the pack had black wolves, and wolves born with a different color or even just a patch of non-black fur were demoted to omega status or even cast out of the pack. And for almost two hundred years, there was no shortage of purebreds in the pack.

But their numbers had been dwindling over the past few years. There was a lack of she-wolves who had been able to bear the “correct” children in their pack, or even have children at all, possibly owing to a lack of genetic diversity within their ranks. Without new and "pure" High Moon pups, they would soon lose the population they needed to maintain their position, and with a reputation to uphold, they had taken drastic measures to increase their numbers - kidnapping young she-wolves who were on the “approved list” of genetic specimen types.

It was necessary to have girls that had yet to have their first shift, which usually happened on the first full moon after their twenty-second birthday. A wolf who couldn’t shift was as weak as a human, and it would also assure that they would not have already been taken as a mate, whether it be a chosen or fated one. Furthermore, if they got them early, it gave them time to mold the girls and make them more amenable to their “situation” before they shifted and were able to be put to their predetermined use.

They tended to target the small packs who would not have the power or influence to do much of anything about it when their daughters went missing. Getting the regular police involved would risk exposing the whole supernatural world to humans, and without a powerful pack equipped with trackers and warriors, they stood little chance of retaliating, if they could even figure out who the culprit was.

The Twisting Rivers Pack was too easy of a target. They consisted of omegas or wolves who chose to forsake their rank. There were no scouts, warriors, or strong fighters among them - just wolves who wanted to live in peace after escaping from their previous packs or mates.

The trackers from High Moon had honed in on Laurel when she had been on one of her frequent runs through the woods. She had cut herself on a thorn bush that day, but being just a scratch, she thought little of it. The trackers took that golden opportunity to collect a blood sample and take it with them for testing. What they then found was astonishing; she was the most perfect specimen they had ever tested. And Alpha Abel became determined to have her among his pack…

CRASH!

The sudden loud noise and flying glass shocked Laurel out of her peaceful sleep. The three black wolves had jumped through her window, encircling her in her bed. Before she could react, all three leapt forward at the same time. They bared their fangs, snarling at her with threats of violence should she run or cry out for help. Abel stood at the foot of her bed and fluidly shifted back into his human form.