The Beta's Choice

It had begun as a celebration, one of the few times that all the Lycans had gathered. For safety reasons, they rarely all went to the same places, but this was special. There was an announcement regarding the Prince of the North Lycans. The Lycans had divided up the areas into three which they ruled over. Well, rules made them sound dark, but mostly they were making sure that wolves were treated fairly, that packs were protected, and that larger issues were dealt with. They also kept peace between wolves and other creatures such as other shifters, vampires, and witches. All while keeping the supernatural secret from humans mostly. The North Lycans were the largest territory and so this announcement of the Prince and his mate was big news. The Royal Lycans of the Southeast and Southwest were in attendance and a large party was being had outside. The announcement buzzed around the crowd but was never heard. Instead, Lycans started passing out. Their drinks, laced with wolfsbane, knocked the lesser Lycans out cold, and the others weakened. They knew it was a danger and tried to call for them to take shelter in the walls of the palace behind them. Palace was probably a strong word. It resembled one but it was really just a large packhouse. Unfortunately, it was bolted shut behind them. The three packs that had planned this had already put people in the palace as servants and had taken over to keep it locked to the Lycans. Then the arrows came. The whizzing of them through the air was tinnier than usual arrows and the acrid smell of silver in the air came too late for warning.   Warrior wolves of the three packs burst in, breaking tables, throwing the white and gold centerpieces flying. The Lycans were able to shift, but it took so much effort with the wolfsbane in their system that they were dizzy for a moment and a moment was all it took. Those that could pull out phones called their own packs, called local packs, calling for help. Knowing full well it would come too late. The Lycans had fought bravely but even the passed-out weaker Lycans were killed. The three packs had known they would take losses but thought it was worth it to rid the world of Lycans. It was towards the end of the battle that they heard the howl of other packs arriving. The battle was a m******e, plain and simple. The packs arrived ready to jump into battle but many froze as they took in the scene. Elderly, pups, women, all lying dead. Some had never even woken to battle for their own lives. Wolves were angry, angry, and determined to make the ones that started this pay. They surrounded the area and, after a short skirmish, took the rest captive. After all, the wolves responsible had already fought all day and into the night. They were easy enough to subdue the rest. Once they gained access to the palace, they put them in cells and called packs from each territory to get those that hadn’t known what had happened to arrive as they decided what to do. The first order of business was to bring all members of all three packs responsible in. They couldn’t afford to let one go, so the warriors took off to the packs. Other packs began arriving and even though they had been warned, the c*****e they saw when they arrived was so much that even some of the older alphas had paled and needed to sit. They knew that it was possible the Lycans had survived, but with the arrival of a pack from the Southwest they learned that while the three packs attacked here, there were others that attacked at home. Lycans everywhere, dead. They had done what they could, but all they could do was take vengeance and destroy the packs in the other two territories. Some got away, heading here as far as they knew.   The trial for the traitors was quick, and while they howled that they would regret it, not one pack did. While some may not have been completely happy with their Lycan rule, not one had ever thought of killing them. Lycans were of older blood, they were the first shifters of any kind and, as such, it was very much a murder of their own kind. The packs responsible were disbanded, with any that were involved being put to death and the rest being given a chance to pledge loyalty to a new pack. The Blood Moon pack was one of the last to show up. They were isolated from most other packs and settled into a valley that made it difficult for any to get to other than using pack roads. The alpha took in the scene and his jaw ticked. He proclaimed that they would take no refugees, but their pack would take care of the Lycan bodies. Finding out each one’s name and wolf so they could be buried properly and with respect. No one tried to dissuade him, they were all heartsick over the whole thing, but nothing more could be done. As members of the packs that were left gratefully pledged loyalty to their new packs, there was one that was not taken by any pack. Most that had survived were young or old, simply not aware of or not in line with the plans their people had made. As the Red River pack was finishing up, the Beta went to the woman who kept her chin high, her eyes defiant. Something in him pulled to her. It wasn’t the mate bond, he knew that. He went to her and asked her why she did not pledge loyalty, and she said that none had wanted her, she was dirty, and had been the gifted mate of a Lycan. Her people were disgusted by her, and those that were not were disgusted that she did nothing to help the Lycans. He asked his Alpha to take her in. He was wary, as all packs were, but they were young. The Alpha and his team had only taken control of the pack six months prior. They all had dreams of making the pack stronger, more inclusive, and fair to all, even the omegas. They thought this was a way to start that. They spoke to her and she agreed that she would pledge loyalty and be the Beta’s chosen mate. All that was left was to take the refugees home to their new packs. As the Red River group got into vehicles, the woman looked back. She could still feel her bond and so knew that at least one Lycan had somehow survived.