ORCHID
The alphas' howls echo through the night forest. The woods are mysterious and bathed in the moonlight's blue glow. I run through the trees, the bushes bloodying my ankles, and branches whipping my face, stinging my eyes, blinding me. I tap on the rough bark of a log. Spinning around, I stumble and fall to the ground, scraping my knees on tangled roots and rough rocks.
I struggle to get away, panting, fingers clawing at the ground, feet slipping on the carpet of dead leaves. But it's too late. The alphas are already here. They surround me.
There are four of them, four huge silhouettes. They position themselves at the four points of the compass, as if preparing for a dark and primal ceremony, and I am the sacrifice. Their mirrored eyes glint dimly in the moonlight, plumes of steami
