𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟 - ℬℴℴ𝓀 𝒪𝓃ℯ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉʳᵉᵇᵘˢ ᵗʳⁱᵇᵉ. ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵘⁿᵃ ᵐᵒᵒⁿ ᶜʰʳᵒⁿⁱᶜˡᵉˢ

From the moment I opened my eyes, I knew I was different. Don’t ask me how—I just did. It was in my blood, a silent pulse that thrummed beneath my skin, a dark whisper in my soul. I was Alpha. --- Bang, bang, bang. The pounding against the door is relentless, like the steady drip of water eroding a stone. I keep my eyes shut, pulling the ragged blanket over my head, trying to block out the noise, the world, the constant reminder that I’m a f*****g outcast. But the banging only grows louder, more insistent, like the universe won’t rest until I’m reminded of just how unwanted I am. Three knocks, a pause. Three more, and then nothing. A growl rumbles in my chest, raw and unfiltered, a beast waking beneath my skin. I want to tell the bastard outside to go f**k himself, but what’s the point? I know what he wants. They all want the same thing: to remind me that I’m less than nothing. A rogue. Less than dog s**t in their polished, pristine world. I suppose I might have belonged to one of their packs once, a lifetime ago, when I was just a kid. But memories are fleeting, and mine are shrouded in darkness. All I remember is running. Always running. Moving from one shithole town to the next, hoping for just one night of peace before another pack catches my scent and decides to play hunt the mutt. I’m so f*****g tired. All I want is sleep, but that’s too much to ask in this godforsaken world. Saying no to an alpha pack is suicide, and as much as I sometimes wish for oblivion, I’m not ready to give them that satisfaction. Packs are packs. They stick together like a hive of angry bees, and me? I’m just the rogue trying not to get stung. The banging intensifies, the asshole on the other side of the door shouting now, his voice dripping with the threat of violence. I could take him, maybe, if it were just him. But packs are never just one man—they’re a goddamn legion. I pull the blanket tighter around me, trying to drown out his voice, the world, everything. But I know it’s useless. There’s no rest for the damned, no peace for someone like me. The only escape is death, and I’m not ready for that. Not yet. --- My name is Wolf. No last name. Just Wolf. It’s the only thing I remember from a past that’s long since slipped through my fingers, like water down a drain. I might have had parents once, but if they’re still alive, I hope they’re f*****g dead to me. If not, it means they abandoned me when I was barely more than a baby, left me to fend for myself in a world that doesn’t give a damn about the weak. Knock, knock, knock. The growling, the shouting, it all blends together into a cacophony of noise that grates on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. Fuck it. I leap to my feet, muscles coiling and uncoiling beneath my skin, the familiar burn of anger setting my veins on fire. I don’t care who’s on the other side of that door; I just want them gone. With a snarl, I yank the door open, and there he is—a f*****g behemoth of a man, glaring down at me like I’m some kind of vermin. I stare him down, a slow grin spreading across my face. “Didn’t your momma ever teach you it’s rude to bang on someone’s door in the middle of the night?” His growl is low, menacing, his breath hot and rancid against my face. It takes everything in me not to gag. Yeah, I want to hit him, break his nose, maybe even tear out his throat. But I know better. He’s not alone. There are more of them, lurking just beyond the door, waiting for me to make a move. “Get the f**k off our land, mutt,” he spits, his voice dripping with contempt. “Alpha Farkas of the Midnight Pack orders it. Leave now, and maybe we won’t rip you to pieces.” I sigh, smirking despite myself. “Farkas? Seriously? What kind of name is that?” He doesn’t react, which is strange. Most would have decked me by now, but he just stares at me, his eyes narrowing like he’s trying to figure me out. It’s unsettling, and for the first time in a long while, I feel a flicker of something other than rage. Something like fear. I break eye contact, shoving past him and heading for the woods. His gaze follows me, burning into my back, but I don’t stop. I don’t look back. Not until I’m far enough away that their voices are just echoes in the night. “Hey, mutt,” he calls after me, his voice distant but clear. “Who are you?” I swallow the lump in my throat, my pace quickening as I put more distance between us. I don’t answer him. I don’t look back. Because I know the truth, the one thing that gnaws at me day and night, never letting me forget what I really am. I’m nobody.