The Alpha's daughter

Ross POV The first werewolf I killed, I was sixteen. The second begged for mercy. By the tenth, I stopped feeling anything at all. Now I’ve lost count. I knelt in the damp soil, my fingers brushing the blood still warm on the ground. It was always the same after a kill. Silence. Heavy. Watching. I slowly lifted my head toward the sky. The moon hung above the trees—bright, unforgiving. Beautiful… in a cruel way. Then I felt it. That shift in the air. My body reacted before my mind did. A twig snapped somewhere behind me. My hand moved instantly. The silver sword slid out of its sheath with a whisper. I turned slowly. Too slowly for someone who wanted to live. A man lay injured between the trees, dragging himself backward. “Please…” he choked. “Don’t—please…” I stopped. Looked at him. Just looked. There was a time I would’ve hesitated. A time I would’ve seen a person. Now I only saw what was left after monsters were done pretending. My grip tightened. Then I stepped forward and swung. The blade cut clean. Blood sprayed into the night. Silence returned. I didn’t look at the body again. I never do. But as I walked away, something else followed me. A memory. A small child… curled inside a cupboard… shaking… crying without sound. I walked faster through the trees. Not because I was afraid of the memory. Because I was tired of surviving it. The porch light was on when I got home. Same as always. Mrs. Carter, my foster mom, never slept without leaving it on for me. The sight of it did something strange to my chest every time. Not comfort. Something softer. Something dangerous. I unlocked the front door quietly and stepped inside. Warm air wrapped around me immediately. The house smelled faintly of cinnamon and old books. Safe. Too safe for someone like me. I shut the door carefully behind me and slipped off my boots near the entrance. Silence filled the hallway. She was asleep already. Good. At least tonight she wasn’t waiting in the living room again pretending not to worry. I went straight to the bathroom and locked the door. Blood slid off my skin under the running water, swirling down the drain like it had never existed. I stared at the mirror. A stranger stared back. Scars covered my body—old wounds layered over older ones. Hand. Chest. Back. Thigh. Proof that I was still alive. Or still failing to die. I dried off, reached for my sword, and cleaned it. Carefully. Like always. Then I sharpened it. Even when it didn’t need it. The sound of metal against stone calmed me more than sleep ever could. My feet carried me toward her room I stopped at the half-open door and looked inside. She was asleep beneath the dim yellow bedside lamp, glasses resting crookedly on her face while a book sat open on her chest. I stared quietly for a moment. She looked peaceful. Normal. Like someone untouched by monsters. I envied that sometimes. Slowly, I walked inside and carefully removed the book from her hands before placing it on the table beside her bed. She stirred slightly. “You’re home…” she murmured sleepily. My chest tightened faintly. “Yeah,” I answered softly. Her body relaxed immediately after hearing my voice. Like that alone was enough reassurance. I pulled the blanket higher over her shoulder. For a second, I just stood there watching her sleep. Sleeping at night was worse than blood. It brought dreams. And I couldn’t afford those. I lay on my bed fully dressed, staring at the ceiling. Sleep never came easily. So I did what I always did. I remembered my mother. And forced the rest away. The next day at school, at Mead High “Ross… Ross!” A sharp tap hit my desk. I opened my eyes slowly. Mrs. Marie stood over me. “Isn’t it too early for a morning nap, Mr. Adams?” Soft laughter moved through the class. I pulled my hoodie up slightly, hiding the scar near my neck. “I’m awake,” I muttered. She sighed and walked to the front. “Today we’ll be discussing parasites.” I barely listened. My mind drifted like it always did—half here, half elsewhere. Then the door opened. The principal stepped in. “We have a transfer student,” he announced. " This is Amy" “Please make her feel welcome.” A girl walked in. And something in my chest tightened instantly. Dark hair. Too dark. Skin pale under the classroom light. But it wasn’t that. It was her eyes. Golden. Sharp. Unnatural. For a second, the room went quiet in my head. She felt… familiar. Like a scent I had smelled in a place I shouldn’t remember. She scanned the class. Then she smiled faintly. And sat down. Close to the back. Close to everyone… except me. But I was already watching her. Without meaning to. Later that night, i took a stroll through the forest. It was colder than usual. I moved between the trees silently, silver sword resting in my grip. Then I felt it. That same scent. Not animal. Not human. Something in between. I stopped. Slowly turned my head. And there she was. The golden-eyed girl. But she was not the same. Her clothes were torn. Blood stained her arms. Claw marks crossed her side. She was barely conscious My grip tightened. Was she attacked? Impossible… it’s not a full moon. I stepped forward. “Hey—” A sound exploded behind me. Too fast. Something hit my arm hard enough to throw me sideways. Pain shot through me as I hit the ground. I rolled instantly, sword raised. But— Nothing. No one. Only darkness. And her— Gone. I went to school the next day thinking about the incident last night She was here again. But how? The scent hit me before I even saw her. My chest tightened. Impossible. That smell shouldn’t exist in school. She walked past me. And for a second— Everything in me stopped. There was something around her neck. A pendant. Small. Old. Familiar in a way that made my stomach tighten. My mind searched for it. I had seen it before. Not in school. Not in normal life. Somewhere buried. Somewhere I wasn’t supposed to remember. My hand moved before I thought. I stepped in front of her. She bumped into me slightly. “Sorry,” she said quickly. I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My eyes stayed on her neck. That pendant… My fingers twitched. My voice came out lower than I expected. “Where did you get that?”