Bite-Size Luna

Chapter Two: Alden POV

I love morning training. Watching my pack members gather together to help each other get stronger, not just for their own sake but for the betterment of the pack, is a rewarding experience. My dad always used to prefer training away from the pack or just with his council and it never sat well with me. An Alpha should train and fight alongside his pack, to show them that he has their back, but let’s face it, there are a lot of things my dad did as Alpha that I didn’t agree with it, but that’s all going to change.

“As it should. Your father is a prick and the way he treated this pack was a disgrace,” growls my wolf Atlas in indignation from his sanctuary in my mind.

“You don’t have to tell me. It’s not like I never tried to talk him around or persuade him to make changes, he just never f*****g listened,” I say in irritation.

“I know, but our plan is working just like I told you it would. There was no point in speaking against him while he was Alpha, but now that we are Alpha, we’re free to change up whatever we want. I’m telling you now if he has f****d up our chances with our animai, I’m ripping his throat out,” he growls, the hackles on his white as snow fur, raising as he bares his teeth.

That’s been one of Atlas’ biggest concerns for years. He fears that our animai might not want us or will be scared of us because of the dynamics my father and grandfather have promoted in the pack. I don’t want my soulmate thinking I’d view her as anything less than perfect, or believing I’d treat her as subservient to me. Whoever my Luna is, I want them to rule this pack at my side as my equal. I want her fighting at my side, and loving this pack as much as I do, fighting to make it better and so does Atlas.

Since I took over as Alpha a couple months ago I’ve been making changes to the structure of the pack. We’re a strong pack, but we’re not a united pack, and just saying that feels like an oxymoron. A pack by definition is unified, so can we even call ourselves a pack if we keep living the way we do? Segregating Omegas, treating them as second-class citizens, or worse. Training the female warriors with kid gloves on. I’m not even a woman and I find it f*****g insulting. She-wolves are tough as hell. They put up with our s**t, they endure the agony of their heat every three months once they find their animai and trust me, you do not want to piss off a pregnant she-wolf because they will rip you apart and I do not mean that as a metaphor. They’re stronger than we give them credit for, yet my father and his father before him treated them as inferior.

Invictus is Latin for unconquerable or invincible, but we’re not living up to our name. We could really be Invictus if we trained everyone in the pack and treated everyone equally. We could be a beacon for other packs. No one would dare pick a war with us knowing that everyone in the pack is a trained fighter. Leaving half the pack untrained isn’t just wasteful, it’s stupid. If we’re ever attacked it’s the ones who aren’t trained who will be targeted. The best way to protect them and the pack as a whole is to make sure every man, woman and child knows how to protect themselves and their fellow pack members.

We managed to get through the warmups and cardio portion of the training just fine – this part of training is really about building stamina – but now it’s on to my favourite part.

“Alright, I’ve paired you all off and we’re now going to work on some new offensive moves. As always we’ll start in our human forms and then we’ll switch to our shifted forms,” announces my Gamma, Roland.

“This is going to be awesome!” Cheers my Delta, Carey.

“You won’t be saying that after I have you eating dirt,” says Roland, smugly.

“Oh yeah? Bring it on, Cueball,” Carey challenges, as I shake my head at the pair of them.

Roland Grey, Carey Melgren, and I have been best of friends since we were pups. Their dads were the previous Gamma and Delta, so we’ve grown up side by side and naturally, I appointed them as my Gamma and Delta and so far I don’t regret it.

Roland is a year older than me and only an inch shorter at 6’4”. There’s this stereotype people have when it comes to us wolves, thinking we’re all just born with defined muscles, which isn’t true. If you want muscles, you have to work hard to get them, and Roland works hard to get them. He’s just solid dark brown muscle from head to toe with dark brown eyes that border on black. His head is clean-shaven, but he has a perfectly trimmed beard and moustache, which gives some dimension to his otherwise cueball head.

Carey, however, is the youngest of us at nineteen. He’s 6’2”, with earlobe-length brown hair, strong features, hazel-green eyes, and toned olive skin that has the women in the pack drooling over him. He kind of gives off that surfer dude vibe. He’s the least muscular of us guys, with Roland outdoing everyone, including me. Something about Gammas. Every Gamma I’ve ever met looks like they could go for Gold in a bodybuilding competition.

You may notice I haven’t mentioned my Beta, that’s because he has yet to show up for training. As if reading my mind, Carey chimes in.

“It’s not like Lark to be late for training,” he says with a frown.

“It’s not like Lark to be late for anything,” I clarify.

“I bet you an entire month’s salary I know exactly why he’s late,” Roland huffs. Sadly, I think we’re all on the same page.

We each get into formation with Roland and me demonstrating the techniques everyone will be learning today when my Beta, Lark Mathers finally decides to grace us with his presence.

“Where the hell have you been?” Roland grumbles. Really pisses him off when people are late for training… okay, he just hates people being late in general. He’s a stickler for tardiness.

“Sorry, guys, I got distracted,” he says, bashfully. Yeah, we can tell what distracted him when we catch the scent of s*x wafting off of him like cheap perfume.

“I respect an animai bond as much as the next person, but you two could have waited until after training. You’re the Beta of this pack Lark, I expect punctuality. We’re the leaders of this pack, we’re supposed to lead by example and you being late because you’re getting it on with Romona does not send a good message,” I reprimand him. I’m trying to make changes to this pack – positive changes. I need my Beta working with me on this.

“You’re right, I’m sorry, Alden, it won’t happen again,” Lark says with genuine remorse.

“I hope not, now pair up with Carey and get to work,” I order him. I hate bossing around my best friends, but sadly that’s part of being an Alpha.

“You couldn’t just let him off the hook. If the pack saw you going easy on the other ranked members they’d either think you’re playing favourites or that they can easily walk all over you. You were right to address it right away,” Atlas reassures me.

“Thanks, buddy. Helps having a voice of reason in my head,” I commend him.

“I do what I can,” he says, casually.

As training continues I step away and make my way around the group like always to assess everyone during training. I want to see how they’re interacting with one another and look for areas where they may need improvement if any.

“Yay, here we go again,” says Atlas, rolling his eyes. This is our least favourite part. Every time I do this, almost every female I pass goes out of their way to get my attention. Tossing of the hair, licking of the lips, batting of the eyelashes, some even being brazen enough to try and ‘brush’ past me. I hate it. Are some of them attractive? Certainly, but I’m not interested. I don’t make it a habit of screwing my way through pack members and I think those who do are a disgrace.

I won’t deny that being part wolf there is a part of us that is driven by our hormones, but we do have brains and we can choose to not react to those instincts. Just think about it for a moment, say you’re an Alpha like myself, and you’ve f****d half the available women in your pack. Now the time has come for them to meet their soulmates, who are also in your pack. I think a great deal of respect would go out the window when all those male wolves realise their Alpha had their soulmates before they did and if it were a female Alpha – not that there are any – the same would apply. Why risk alienating your own pack members because you can’t keep it in your f*****g pants?

I’m distracted from my internal rant when the sound of laughter makes its way to my ears. I look in the distance for the source of the laughter and just catch a glimpse of golden hair in the tree line.

“Keep going, I’ll be back in a minute,” I tell Roland through the pack-link.

“Where are you going?” He asks, curiously.

“Just want to check something out, I won’t be long.”

I move swiftly, coming around and from the back of the tree line. Why would a pack member be out here at this hour? As I move to wear I saw the golden hair, I’m almost frozen in my tracks when I see a stunning young woman training by herself in the middle of the woods. She’s looking out past the tree line watching the training session and is mimicking each move – spectacularly I might add. She’s so petite, at least 5’1”, long golden blonde hair tied up in a ponytail and a white sweatband around her head under her bangs. She has gorgeous creamy white skin that is rather toned and she’s wearing a white halter top and white jogging shorts, both of which cling to her body like a second skin. I can tell she works out just from how defined her muscles are, and I hate to admit it, but she has a killer body. Ample breasts being hugged by her top, and a pert round ass barely hidden by her shorts. I feel like a p*****t for staring.

“You are a p*****t for staring, but with a body like that, I can’t really blame you,” Atlas pants. What the hell?

“Shouldn’t you be scolding me for looking at a woman who isn’t our animai?” I remind him.

“Probably, but… she seems special,” he says, meekly. Why the f**k is he being meek all of a sudden? And what does ‘special’ even mean?

Looking at her again I focus more on her technique instead of her terrific body. Every strike from her is with the force and precision of a cobra. She’s brilliant… so why the hell isn’t she at training? As I take a step forward she stops what she’s doing and stands perfectly still. She must have heard me approaching, but unlike most people, she doesn’t panic or flinch. Even her heartbeat is completely even. She’s assessing the situation. This girl keeps getting more interesting. A breeze wafts by and with it, it brings her scent. Wow… wait, I know that scent. I smell it almost all the time throughout the packhouse. I’ve spent months wondering who that scent belonged to and now I finally know. She smells like cinnamon and freshly baked pastries. I try to shake it off, instantly feeling guilty for finding someone else’s scent so alluring.

As soon as I step close enough to her, she spins around at a speed I wasn’t expecting. It catches me by surprise to the point I almost didn’t notice her leg swinging right at me. I manage to throw my hand out and catch her ankle before her kick can connect with my body. The moment my skin connects with hers my hand pleasantly stings from the contact. Her skin is soft as silk, but touching it is like being warmed from the inside, and I’m scared of how much I like it.

I look down and for the first time take in her face… f**k… she’s absolutely gorgeous. Soft feminine features, a strong pointed, well-defined nose, perfectly shaped lips that part of me wants to feast on and she’s looking up at me with the most beautiful, warm chestnut eyes. I suppress the urge to gulp. She’s definitely a pack member, and yet I’ve never seen her before, how is that possible?

“Now is that any way to greet your Alpha?” I say with a smirk, trying not to ogle the beauty in front of me.

“Maybe Alphas shouldn’t be sneaking up on their pack members,” she snaps. I wasn’t expecting that. She’s a feisty little thing. She’s not even a little bit intimidated by me.

“I’m liking her already,” says Atlas, equally impressed. Any other occasion we’d take this as a challenge to our authority but for some reason I kind of like it coming from her.

“Touché, but then again, I don’t know many pack members who train secretly in the woods,” I point out, still trying to figure out why she’s here. Her eyes glaze over for a second and I can tell she’s having some kind of inner dialogue with her wolf.

“Can I have my leg back now?” She asks in a bored tone. Huh? What is she talking about?

“You’re still holding onto her leg, you dumbass,” Atlas points out, rolling his eyes at my stupidity. f**k, how long have I been holding her leg like this?

“Oh! s**t, sorry,” I apologise, quickly releasing her leg, but as soon as I do I miss the contact. What the hell has gotten into me? Not wanting to come off as a perverted Alpha, I decide to distract the situation by pointing out what I noticed in her technique.

“Right, because if you compliment her abilities, maybe she won’t use them on you,” Atlas sniggers.

“You got a better idea or are you just going to keep making fun of me?” I ask, feeling both irritated and embarrassed.

“Keep making fun of you, obviously,” he says, confidently, sitting back on his hind legs giving me a very creepy grin. Ever seen a wolf grin? It’s rather disturbing.

“There was a lot of power behind that kick and your form was quite impressive. I hate to think what might have happened if I hadn’t caught your leg in time,” I say in amusement, trying to lighten the moment. I don’t miss how she checks me out. It was subtle, but she still did it. Maybe she likes what she sees? Then again, why should I care? She’s not my soulmate. I just said I have no intention of playing the field with other she-wolves… but why do I feel so drawn to her?

“You in a world of pain is what would have happened,” she says, bluntly, crossing her arms over her chest. I try not to notice how the action presses her breasts together. I do, however, fail to hide my surprise at her words. I’ve never had someone speak to me with so much confidence outside of my family and best friends and that’s because they’ve known me my whole life. She knows she’s talking to her Alpha but she’s not even a little fazed by that. Who is this fascinating creature?

I step forward, crossing my arms over my chest just as she did. The closer I get the more her scent invades my senses and distracts me.

“Is that so?” I challenge.

“Did I stutter?” She deadpans.

“Tough as nails this one,” says Atlas, enjoying the bite-size she-wolf before us.

I chuckle, shaking my head at this bold woman, but I need to address the matter at hand. “Why aren’t you training with everyone else?” I ask. Her nostrils flare infinitesimally, though I can’t imagine why.

“You’re the Alpha, you tell me,” she says, her tone sounding sour. At her words I can think of only one reason she wouldn’t be training with the pack, so I sniff the air around us focusing harder on her scent, this time not getting distracted by how delicious it smells, and just there under the sweet, spicy fragrance is what she’s talking about.

“You’re an Omega,” I say, compassionately. Every mutolupus carries the scent of a wolf, but with an Omega, the scent is just a fraction weaker due to the fact they can’t shift.

“Got it in one, so now you know why I’m not training with the others,” she says with a shrug, like what she’s saying is nothing. She puts up a good front, I’ll give her that, but I can see the hurt in her eyes. This fact hurts her and honestly, it disgusts me to my core. My f*****g dad and his stupid rule about forbidding Omegas to train and fight.

“That explains why you’re not training with the pack, but not why you’re secretly watching everyone and training in the woods,” I press, stepping closer. It wasn’t even intentional; my feet were moving on autopilot. I just… need to be closer to her for some reason. Her eyes widen a fraction, and I can see her trying hard not to check me out, and I admit I rather like that she’s struggling with herself too because I sure as s**t know I am.

“That’s none of your business,” she huffs and starts to walk away from me. What the hell? I asked her a question and I want an answer. I could force it out of her… but the thought of doing that to her makes me feel sick.

“Please, don’t make me use my Alpha Spirit,” I beseech her.

She stops in her tracks and slowly faces me, surprise filling her eyes. Suddenly something in her face shifts, like a guard was dropped down or something.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to be looked at as less than everyone else? Or to have something you want so badly, but the odds are stacked against you?” She asks sadly, and the sound of her voice pierces my heart. It even makes Atlas whimper. An Alpha wolf whimpering at the sadness in this young woman’s voice. Never thought I’d see the day.

“No, I don’t know what that’s like,” I answer honestly.

“That’s why I’m out here. Because I would give anything to be a warrior in this pack and yet I can’t even train with my pack because I can’t shift. Satisfied?” She says, softly.

I don’t believe in coincidences. I believe in our Goddess and that we all have a destiny. My whole life I’ve wanted to better this pack for all its members and one of the ways I wanted to better it, is to improve the circumstances for Omegas, and now here I am in the middle of the woods with this small, feisty she-wolf who just poured her heart out on how her dream is to be a warrior. She doesn’t want glory or praise; she just wants to fight for and with her pack. I want to give that to her; her and every other Omega.

I find myself just staring at her, captivated by her beauty and her strength. I’ve never met anyone like her, and I’ve never felt so drawn to someone. I can’t help but wonder… what if she’s my soulmate? But I would have felt our bond.

“Only if she’s eighteen. You know the bond doesn’t form unless both parties are over eighteen,” Atlas reminds me. I could ask her, her age, but that seems rude. Come to think of it, I don’t even know her name.

“What’s your name?” I ask her.

“Huh?” She asks in confusion as if she forgot where she was.

“Your name, I assume you have one,” I say, playfully.

“Sorrell. Sorrell Deslandes,” she says, with an air of caution. Sorrell… I’ve never heard that name before. It’s unique, just like her. Deslandes, however, that name I know.

“Any relation to Edward Deslandes?” I confirm. Edward Deslandes is one of our best warriors and last I checked, fated to a human, which if Sorrell is their daughter would explain why she’s an Omega. It’s never been confirmed, but it’s believed Omegas occur because a parent or side of their family is full-blooded human.

“Yes, he’s my father,” she says. Shouldn’t be hard to find out how old she is now.

“She’s seventeen,” says Atlas.

“What? How the hell do you know that?” I ask in bewilderment.

He shrugs, “I asked her wolf, Alma. Very lovely and more than happy to answer,” he says, wagging his tail cheerfully. He seems a little too happy about this brief chat with her wolf.

“And why did you ask her wolf for their age?”

He snorts, “Because you were too cowardly to ask her yourself. You humans make things so darn difficult sometimes. It’s a wonder anything ever gets done.” I’m going to pretend he didn’t say that, but okay, Sorrell is seventeen. If she is my animai then I’ll know for sure on her birthday… I hope it’s not far away. I’ve wanted to find my animai for three years now, and she might have been under my nose this whole time. Even if she’s not my soulmate, I want to help her. We want the same things, just for different reasons.

“For what it’s worth, Sorrell, I don’t think it’s fair, and from what little I’ve seen I think this pack would be lucky to have you,” I say, closing the gap between us, hoping she hears the sincerity in my voice. My eyes find hers and I once again can’t seem to look away. Their warm chestnut depths pulling me in like a siren’s song. I just hope if I give in it doesn’t lead to my destruction. Her eyes look glassy as she looks up at me, a world of emotions swimming in her eyes and I want so badly to understand what those emotions are.

“If you think that’s true, then do something about it,” she says and before I can even register her words, she’s taken off into the woods in a streak of golden hair, leaving nothing behind but her sweet, spicy scent.

I’m frozen to the spot. In the span of a few minutes she challenged me, not once, but multiple times and instead of feeling angered or offended, I feel a burning need to rise to the challenge. I can’t imagine how hard her life has been, but I want to make it better, not just because she’s a member of my pack, but because part of me believes I may have just found my soulmate.