The Saga Of The Bullied Luna’s Return

Chapter 3

It took them almost as long to catch up to me and drag me back as it did for me to run away. And today was the first time in all those years that I had ever seen someone who did not reside within this hellhole of a house. And I've spent the better part of five years trying and failing to revert to wolf form. I only ever worked that one shift. Never again would my inner wolf emerge, thanks to whatever Great-Uncle Thomas did to me that night. However, there were occasions when I distinctly heard a whimpering and whining emanating from the depths of my mind.

Stories have been told about me ever since the night I turned into a wolf. I had no idea which ones were true. Some folks, I was told, went looking for weak pack members like myself. That we were completely unnecessary and unwelcome. I had reason to believe that this was true because I knew that other members of my family had also been abused for reasons unrelated to me. I believe this lowly object was to blame for my predicament. And Uncle William, I'm told, was willing to wed me for my own safety. But, oh no.

I was warned to be wary of everyone, but especially an Alpha, because they took particular umbrage with the weaker wolves. My wolf must have been quite frail to have been trapped in that way.

Since I'd never left this house before, I knew nothing about the real world. Prior to reading the encyclopedia, the most reading I had done was three children's novels. I had knowledge but no ability to act on it. That didn't prevent me from trying to escape, though.

And eventually I would make it. To avoid them, I would withdraw. Soon, too!

Maximus

~~

The little man hiding in the corner snarled at me, "You're going to rue the day you took this pack Maximus. I will see to that." "This pack ran just fine without you needing to get involved in the damn politics. Just let us go back to how things were, how they used to be."

When he started yelling at me, all I could do was stand there and Stare at him with rage. He wasn't much more than a wolf of the middle ranks. He was just another Lambda among many, filling out the lower ranks of the upper class. When compared to other wolves, he was quite little. Not only did his greying hair indicate he was getting close to fifty, but his wrinkled face also gave away his advanced age.

Stupid people like them are why I've always wanted to lead. I was born into a prestigious family in our pack, and by the time I was fifteen, I had earned my place among the Deltas. I was the first in my family to breed an Alpha, but they had no idea what I was capable of. And I just couldn't stand by and watch this pack keep going the way it was.

I can't tell you when or why or even who began it, but this group of wolves was unique.

We were far from civilization in these Northern California woods. It was so far out that we rarely saw any other packs until we went on the road. When I was a kid, I was sickened by the way people treated each other in my pack and even my own family.

Position meant everything in this group. No one cared about you if you weren't born a powerful person. Because of this, most of the pack's weaker and lower-ranking members were treated with complete contempt, as if they were nothing more than trash.

Exactly why did I feel so bothered by that? Why did I have to go and mess everything up to save the lowly?To be honest, there were several causes.

First and foremost, who else except the strong would come to their aid? Was it not the role of the powerful to safeguard the vulnerable? That's the lesson we learn about ethics, adulthood, and accountability. The weak, who are defenseless, rely on the powerful for their survival. There is mutual benefit in this arrangement.

Second, it was wrong on moral grounds. If their wolf wasn't as strong as theirs, why did they think it was okay to beat, abuse, and persecute their loved ones, neighbors, and even strangers? Should the wolves who were always stronger than them also be punished in the same way as the Omegas? I figured they should be continuing their antics if they were serious about it.

The third and final reason is that my best childhood friend, Lenny, was an Omega. His loved ones were ashamed of him and didn't think he was worth anything.

Lenny was the oldest sibling by a week, but he was also a lot smaller than me. However, this had nothing to do with status or power. When they found out Lenny's status, his parents didn't care enough to feed him on a regular basis or allow him play outside. From the time we were three years old until we were seven years old, we spent almost all of our waking hours playing together.

Over the course of the following year, until we were both eight years old, I continued to see him on occasion. Lenny, when I saw him, was trying to look on the bright side. He mustered all his strength to keep his bruises a secret. But Lenny disappeared without a trace one day and was never seen again.

Lenny was beaten to death by his uncle, a vicious, ruthless man. He insisted that it was the only decent fate for an Omega as worthless as himself. Even though I was only eight years old, I was furious. On that day, I could have easily killed the man.

That day, I also worked my first shift ever. My early shift made me the youngest wolf in my pack's recorded history. Besides my own pack and the one close to where I go to school, I don't know very much about the history of shifters, so I wouldn't be much use.

My father restrained me from attacking Lenny's uncle when I shifted that day. Because the murderer was a Delta, which indicates a fairly high rank, he didn't want me to be in trouble for talking about it.

That's when I made up my mind to do it. In time, I would become more powerful. There was no stopping my ascent through the ranks. And I was going to become the Alpha of this pack, by whatever means necessary, including killing the current Alpha.

That's why I went and did it. The Alpha, the cowardly jerk who condoned and even promoted violence and cruelty among his pack, served only as a stepping stone for me. And now he exists only in the annals of history. He'd never set foot in my house again, and I'd be free to save victims of abuse.

As I stood there Staring at the floor at the trembling pee ant, my mind wandered off into my thoughts and recollections. Even after they left, I could still hear my Gammas searching the home for anyone who could have been trying to hide.

I was on a mission to save as many people as possible, and if necessary, I would use force to set them free. I would personally assault their loved ones or captors if necessary. I would kill the sons of bitches and still free all the captives if they refused to let them go.

"Where are they?" I questioned the man I had been Staring at. When asked, "Where are you hiding your victims?"

He asked, seemingly confident that I wouldn't be able to figure out his little secret, "What makes you think I have anyone here?"

This is in response to your boasting about your recent beating of the lad (what is he, fifteen or sixteen?).

He had the nerve to try lying to me, right to my face: "I don't know what you're talking about."

I looked him dead in the eye and said, "You know Albert, unless you or someone else in this f*****g pack is strong enough to kill me, I am your Alpha now, and you will listen to me." I lowered my voice to give it that authoritative tone, the command that made it so he had to listen to me or suffer. "There are only so many options you have right now. Fess up. Get the s**t kicked out of you then fess up. Get the s**t kicked out of you then leave this pack. And lastly, you can die. Pick one and stop wasting my time." The plan was successful.

The terrified man in front of me appeared to fold in on himself and collapse to the floor. His red, teary eyes were filled not only with anger towards me, but also with unshed tears. No problem there. I didn't want scum like him polluting our ranks or our environment.

His voice was faint and shaky as he said, "They're behind the trick wall."