Rejecting The Alpha Queen

Training

Amelia’s POV

Mark was waiting for me as I jogged over to our makeshift training ground.

We’d made it in the woods outside our house. I trained the last thing at night, and as soon as I'd finished my morning chores... every day.

I wanted to be just like my Foster father. I wanted to hunt and kill rogues.

Mark is really against that idea and tells me the training is to let off steam only.

He had started to train me when I was just 3. We had photos of me searching for things in the woods and running laps with my chubby little legs.

Now, I took on far more than just laps.

He smiled when I got to him.

His shaggy salt and pepper hair blowing in the breeze. His piercing blue eyes took in my appearance and assessed me for injuries.

“You’re late?” he said as a question.

He knew my routine, there’s only one reason why I’m usually late.

Eric...

“Oh yeah, lil Alpha had a crazy romp fest with some Omegas。” I said, trying to brush his question off with bluster.

“Nothing else?” 

How did he always know? Mark has this weird sixth sense.

He knows when I’ve had a run-in with Eric. Or anyone, for that matter. When Eric first started to pick on me like the bully, he was. Mark would ask me about it, and I thought that Eric was telling him!

But no he’s just got some crazy mojo going on.

“Nothing unusual, don’t get your panties in a twist about it. I don't anymore. "

He visibly relaxes his shoulders and laughs as intended.

I have hidden the bruises around my neck with my hair. I've found it's very useful for this, and I would have probably cut it before if it didn't hide the bruises so well.

He passes me the knives. I train with lots of different weapons but these have to be my favourite.

We’d made moving targets in the trees for me to practice throwing.

That’s exactly what I was heading to do now. Just imagining one was Eric’s head would be like twenty hours of therapy.

When Mark went out of sight, I tied my long blond hair up, limbering and stretching my muscles.

Mark pulls the cord in the tree, and the targets start moving, it’s not very high tech, and they move the same way every time but it's practice.

Every day, I get stronger, it's a step closer to not being the pack's punch bag.

They can never know we do this, though, they like me being their little b***h. They would have to clean themselves if they didn't have me. No one else was applying for the position of the Pack Dog's body.

They would die from the mounds of the mess they all make.

I ran through my first drill. Knifes flying, I’m jumping off the spring boards we have down. As I don’t have a wolf yet I’m weak. I know I’m weak and the worst part. So do they.

I hit every target dead centre. Mark follows behind me, he doesn’t have to use the spring boards, though. He and his wolf Jasper have had years to get to know each other, and they work in perfect harmony.

I can’t wait for that! My wolf will be finally looking out for me.

I use the rope ladder and scale up into the trees. It’s time for some crossbow time. I do the same drills with the same targets. But now I have to move in the trees and take shots like a sniper.

I’m up in the trees hanging upside down when I hear a voice calling for Mark. I know that voice, and I instantly shield my presence in the tree.

Shit. Why now?!

The Alpha comes round the side of the house, and Mark hurries to meet him.

“Mark.” he calls again.

“Right here, Connor.”

He approaches Connor, our Alpha from the side, he’s still in dense tree growth, and Connor doesn’t see him till he steps out in front of him.

Mark likes to unsettle Connor; he says the Alpha doesn’t have good sense. His wolf is dormant, and he’s got lazy with having so much power.

He’s younger than Mark and an Alpha. So logically, Connor should be stronger than Mark. But he’s not, and Mark loves to rub it in his face.

Trying not to laugh at Connors's face as Mark steps out, I crouch lower in the tree branches. Mark may have just shown me how to sense blind Connor actually was. But knowing my luck, he’ll see me.

“We need you to scope out a group of unidentified wolves, just west of the southern border.” Connor tells him, trying to regain the upper hand in dominance. He fails miserably, though.

Where Mark has greying hair, Connors is as dark as night. Even with his youth against the old man, he just comes up short in the dominance pissing contest.

“I’ll get ready and meet the warriors in your office for briefing” with that he turns to leave.

“Mark, the embassy is sending someone to join you there. So don’t f**k it up!” Thinking he has the last word Connor turns to leave.

“Have I ever f****d up, Alpha?” Mark, snarky comment hits him like a whip.

The Alpha doesn’t go on Rogue hunts anymore. The last one was his monumental f**k up.

Connors shoulders bunch, but he keeps on walking.

When he’s out of sight, I scramble down the tree.

I hope he lets me tag along this time!

MARKS POV

I already know what she’s going to ask before the last word of the question leaves that stupid i***t mutt Alphas mouth.

An Alpha used to be the strongest when I was in charge. This kid just thought he was the bollocks, gaining power in the dead of the night.

He doesn’t know who we are, and he never will if I have my way!

But I’m running out of time, and it’s made clearly obvious when Amelia springs from the back garden into the kitchen.

A move, no human, with a dormant wolf or not could make.

Poor kid, she let what they all tell her get in her head. She doesn’t see how her wolf is already there, aiding her. But it’s clear to me.

Maybe that’s because I know the truth, maybe if I didn’t I’d see her the way everyone else does. A weak Omega who will forever be the lowest of the pack.

When she was a baby, Ryan and Claire took her to the witch. They bound her wolf and her power.

I never asked if the spell would work on me. I wish I had.

Over these years I’ve had many moments where I wish my friend was here. He was right, the moon goddess kept me around for a reason.

When the Alpha of the Midnight City Pack had strung my best friend up to that tree, I knew he would come for Claire, and Amelia would need me.

I'd pulled my best friend down from that tree and buried him with Claire. The plan was already set; it's like Ryan had seen the future and had set in motion Amelia's escape.

Now, just like when she was small, I looked into her bright green eyes and I knew she was the reason I was still alive.

I’ve been hiding us in plain sight ever since I took her.

But the countdown of her 18th birthday has begun, and I’m dreading it.

I turned to her, raising my eyebrow.

“No, no, and double, no young lady!” her shoulders slump in defeat. Amelia knows better than to argue with me. I’ll only get more stubborn.

“Fine then, have all the fun!” she walks off and grabs an apple on her way through the kitchen.

I go to my room to pack. Their sending someone to meet me from the embassy. There’s only one thing they could mean: these rogues are known and are up to something dangerous.

Is this it? Has the Alpha of the Midnight City Pack found us? He's searched endlessly for her, not believing that she is dead.

The rogues are too close to our territory if it is him. All he would have to do is ask Connor, and he would know. The little s**t would probably gift wrap us up for him!

Dread filled me, only one way to find out, though.

Amelia’s POV

I jump into the shower and rinse off the day's grime. I still smell of bleach, it’s a smell that always seems to linger on me.

I scrub till my hands are sore and red. When I finally get out looking like a prune, I go to the mirror.

My eyes are dull green, more like dirty pond water than an actual nice green.

Mark says they shine, but they don’t. My wet hair hangs lifeless around my shoulders and down my back. I don’t have the heart to cut it, but it would be a hell of a lot easier if I did.

At least Eric couldn’t grab it then when he was in a really horrible mood.

I grab my dressing gown and head to my room. I’ve had a fantasy brewing about how I am going to sneak out after Mark and show them all that I should be on the patrol for rogues, not stuck in the pack house cleaning.

I wish I had the guts to pull it off every time I seemed to get cold feet. I couldn't pull off being a Rogue hunter; I'm too much of a chicken!