Hunted by the Alpha King

Willow Richards stared at her reflection in the antique mirror, hoping for any change. Any slight difference to show that she had reached the necessary age. But there was nothing. She had the same slim body that had dubbed her the nickname Skeletor. The same mismatched eyes. One purple, one blue. Neither matched the brown eyes of her parents. Her white-blonde hair didn't match their deep brown hair. She was taller than all the other girls her age, nearly seeing eye-to-eye with most of the boys, which was unheard of. Looked down on even. “You look beautiful,” her mother looked at Willow in the mirror, placing both hands on her daughter’s shoulders. It took all of the young wolf’s concentration not to laugh. Her mother was the epitome of beauty in their pack. Short and curvy with tanned skin and earth-colored hair. The natural caramel highlights were the color of her wolf’s fur. The darker the fur, the richer the bloodline. Willow’s white hair guaranteed her lowly status for the rest of her life. She was barely a level above humans. “You remember what we told you, right?” Fear flickered in her mother’s chocolate eyes briefly. The young wolf gulped then nodded once. Her parents had asked her to do the impossible. They had been training for this day since she had turned eight years old. For a decade they had trained, secretly of course. Her father would wake her in the middle of the night and stimulate an attack. At first, the lessons she learned were brutal and she often carried bruises for a couple of days afterward. As a child she didn't understand her father's cruelty, he daily doted on her with love and affection but at night he was the exact opposite. It wasn't until her first interaction with the Alpha that she understood. She was ten years old, as tradition demanded. It was the first time she had met any other wolves, her parents homeschooled her and they lived on the outskirts of the pack's territory. Her parents had the simple job of watching the border they lived near. No one bothered them and they didn't bother anyone else. Or so Willow thought. She still remembered the brilliance of the alpha's mansion. The old plantation with white columns and green vines climbed up the walls. The entire pack was invited, as they were every year. When she and her parents had entered the grand estate they were met with complete silence. No shouts of joy as another girl had reached age. No ceremonial meeting with the boys her age, to discover her mate. Willow, a young naive girl, looked eagerly at the other children of age. They were the first children she had ever seen, and when she waved they didn't return the gesture. One boy growled at her until her hand dropped. Which resulted in malicious smirks and snickers from the girls. Then, the largest man she had ever seen approached them. He had unruly black hair that touched his broad shoulders. Black eyes glared at her with such ferocity she tried hiding behind her father. His scarred lips were twisted in disgust. The large man wore the black ring that signified he was the Alpha. "What do you think you're doing bringing that thing here?" It was clear from his disgust the thing was Willow. "She is of age sir," her father replied. "I will never allow her to breed." Willow shrunk back from the venom in his voice. Her mismatched eyes flickered to the kids watching with glee as she was publicly humiliated. "I wouldn't even let her teach the cubs." "Lionel-" It was then that Willow realized the Alpha hadn't even looked at her mother. Because once those black eyes flickered to her mother they turned so vile, so hate-filled that even her strong-willed mother quieted. "You will address me properly." Willow's mother bowed her head in submission. A beautiful woman with black hair so dark it looked blue walked up. She placed a delicate hand on the alpha's arm. She had dark blue eyes and a kind smile. "Lionel, my love, it's okay. They were leaving, right?" her eyes flicked toward Willow's mom and waited until she nodded before looking back at her husband, "Although tradition demands that Willow meets with the Elder. She still has that right as a pack member." When the alpha gazed down at his wife, the hardness in his eyes softened slightly. He nodded once. Her answering smile was so beautiful that Willow understood why such a hard man had bent to her will so easily. She turned her eyes toward Willow and held out a hand, "C'mon dear we'll go meet with the Elder." Willow's small hand shook as she raised it towards the alpha's wife. The black-haired woman's grip was strong and her smile warm as she turned and started leading Willow towards the Elder. Everyone was silent, never looking away from her as she walked through the mansion. They parted like the Red Sea allowing her to pass with no issue. The Elder was sitting in a large antique armchair. She was so short that her feet hung above the ground. Her long grey hair was braided and hung over her shoulder, nearly touching the floor. Wrinkles pulled down her dark skin. Willow gasped as the Elder looked up at her. The Elder was blind, obvious by the missing pupils and the misty blue color. "C' mere, I won't bite," the Elder cackled. Willow kneeled in front of her chair. "Ah, the white wolf has come to see me. Your color will not do well here, but you're not from around here are ya?" She laughed again and then sobered instantly touching her shoulder, the exact spot where her father had left a bruise in their training session. "Keep this up, they'll kill you the first chance they get. You need to be stronger than everyone else or you won't survive." Willow gulped as a chill shot down her spine. "Does she have a mate?" Lionel growled. The Elder's eyes flicked to the alpha and then rested back on Willow, a slight smile on her face. "Only the strongest wolf can be her mate. He will need to prove himself to her, time and time again. He will need to save her and protect her." The smile dropped off her face, "Because she is hunted." After that night she took her parent's training seriously. She learned to sleep lightly, to wake at the slightest sounds. And whenever her father chased her through the woods while in wolf form she learned how to disguise her scent and hide. Until there was no trace of her left. Now her parents were asking her to use all of that training. To disguise her scent and hide so no wolf could find her. They were asking her to run. Which by wolf-law meant she was a deserter and needed to die. "What if I'm not mated? Do I still need to run?" "You're mated." "You know who he is." Her mother nodded. "It will take all of your training and more to get away from him." Willow frowned, "How is that possible? I thought Father was the best tracker." "Not for a while now. Come, it’s time." Willow followed her mother out of her room to find her father standing next to the door. He was an imposing man even though he was near sixty years old. His large arms were crossed over his barrel chest, the aggression coming off of him in waves. Dark brown hair was salted with grey and cut shorter than a typical wolf’s. His tanned skin was withered and wrinkled now. He wore ceremonial loose cotton henley and white cotton pants. “Are you ready for this?” He held out one of his hands, and lying in his palm was a compact dagger. Willow nodded and grabbed the knife from her father, tucking it into her boot. “It’s going to be harder than any training we’ve ever had, Willow. You will need to keep your focus and never look back. Your wolf is going to fight you; she is going to want to stay with her mate. But you can’t, do you understand?” Why not? “Ok. What happens if I start to change?” “Fight it. I’m serious, Willow. Your life depends on it. You must never change.”