The Alpha and His Deadly Beauty

'Target'

Scarlett sharpened her knives with precision. The act had become so natural to her that she could do it blindly. She stroked her loyal knife over and over on a brick of stone from the edge to another edge.

The trick to sharpen knives is to hear the sounds they make. The sound of metal grazing a stone. For Scarlett, who had done this a million times, she could recognize the sound change when her sharp knives became evermore sharp. The sound also helped her to not overdo the sharpening. Knives at the edge of breaking usually give off a slightly higher-pitched sound. They also give off more sparks.

With this experience, Scarlett’s knives were easily known as the sharpest among all the assassins of the Red Crow Guild. And she herself?

When people are asked who among the Red Crow assassins was the deadliest, they would not answer her name. Or when asked who was the most frightening, they would still not answer her name.

But when asked who had the most successful killing rate, without a doubt, people would bellow her name to the wind. Along with alcohol and cards to play with, people liked to tell tales of her.

The Rouge Assassin. 

Named so because of her red hair. And why they chose 'rouge' instead of 'red' would always be a mystery to Scarlett. Personally, she loved the former word more. It sounded more exquisite, just like her.

Her method of assassination was by no means extraordinary. Her list of kills was also not unique, just another set of rotten individuals living in the City of Corpses.

Everyone who lives in the damned city was more than likely to engage in shady businesses. Almost no one was innocent. And only travelers with the worst past would come to visit this city. Or fools. Scarlett had seen fools here and then who entered the city with their innocent-looking eyes.

No. What made her a famous tale to be told by both women and men alike almost every night… was her beauty.

That sounded shallow, right?

Beautiful men and women are always the talk of the town because everyone envies their looks. But in Scarlett’s case, no one envied her. Instead, they were frightened of her beauty.

People who claimed to be witnesses to Scarlett’s actions all said that the moment you see her face, you would be blessed with the most beautiful face you have ever seen. And the next second, you would drop dead. ‘Her beauty is a curse,’ they said.

Scarlett grazed her knife one last time on the stone as she heard a man inside the pub below her room said, “Honestly if it’s the last day of my life, I don’t mind seeing a beauty like that.”

Her room was one floor above the pub. Her sensitive ears, courtesy of a werewolf legacy, had been listening to some of the conversations. Some made her chuckle in amusement. Some made her cringe as hard as her face would allow.

At one point, however, her ears would listen intently to one particular table. It was the table near the window facing east. Three men sat in brooding silence. Scarlett could whiff the smell of mud, lavender, lemon, musk, rainwater, and sweat mixed all together. It was obvious that they were travelers.

There was no lavender and lemon anywhere in the city. And the rain had not come for a month now. The city was on the brink of having water extinction. Only the rich could store water. And yet, every night the people still wasted themselves on beers.

The smell of wet hair was so strong on them. Proof that they were werewolves.

Scarlett could also smell that the three of them were wearing thick cloaks. And judging by the silence stretching between them, they were having a problem.

“Aldos sent word that Moonchasers are coming,” said one guy. He smelled like rain the most. So, Scarlett named him ‘Rain’ in her head.

“s**t,” replied another. His tone was much lighter than Rain. Scarlett deduced he was probably still in his teenage years. Almost the same age as Scarlett then. She almost turned nineteen. Judging by his voice, Scarlett named him Puberty.

“Then we have to find Gan by tomorrow night,” the third person spoke. His voice was the deepest out of all. It sent a slight shiver down Scarlett’s spine. He smelled like musk and lemon the most.

How can a werewolf smell so good?

She called him ‘Target’. Because she was about to assassinate him that day.

Suddenly, she heard Target sniffed the air. He did it three times, as if he could not be sure.

Shit!

Scarlett held her breath.

All werewolves have a keen sense of smell, hearing, and vision. In a normal case, when Scarlett could smell and hear the men below, they would be able to sense Scarlett’s presence as well. Because although werewolves have their own distinct smell, the general smell of rain and mud persisted. That is how werewolves recognize others.

But Scarlett was a dire wolf. An extinct race of werewolves that was famous due to each wolf having its own unique smell without the general smell of rain and mud. Due to this, dire wolves could blend it with other beings’ smell; humans, fairies, and others without being recognized as a werewolf. Only people that have interacted with them and remember their smell would be able to recognize them.

Thus, Target should not be able to smell Scarlett. If he did, he would not smell a werewolf. Perhaps…

Do I smell fishy?

Luckily, when Rain asked what Target smelled, Target answered, “I thought… I don’t know. I must have been tired.”

Scarlett let out the breath she was holding. He did not recognize her.

“We should review the plan for tomorrow,” Target said. On which Rain responded, “No.”

“Excuse me?” Target demanded an answer to Rain’s behavior. It was obvious that Target was the Alpha among them. His Alpha smell was so strong that Scarlett thought she could smell it from the next town.

Rain was most likely the Beta. And he dared to say ‘No’ to his Alpha.

“You need rest, Trey,” Rain said, “You’ve been up all night for three days straight. We have reviewed the plan dozens of times. It will work. But you need your strength to make it work.”

Hey, Target and Trey do not sound too different, right? I am a genius at figuring out people’s names.

“We will have to rely on your good judgment tomorrow, Trey,” Boy pitched in, “You need rest.”

Scarlett could hear Trey took a couple of breaths to let the words sink in on him. She thought she would have heard Trey go wild at the two’s insubordination. Most alphas are like that. They usually are very sensitive to their control over the pack and would be angry when their opinions are challenged, no matter if it was done for their own good. Alphas are truly just insecure beings due to their dominant nature.

Surprisingly, Trey instead told them, “You’re right.”

Scarlett scoffed at the answer. She could not decide whether Trey was just a different kind of alpha or was he actually at the brink of a power shift. Alphas that would step down usually lessen their control freak nature bit by bit.

“But we will review it once more at dawn,” Trey said again. This time, he said it with an authority.

The next thing Scarlett heard was their footsteps walking on the stairs. The sound grew louder as they passed the second floor where Scarlett’s room was. They took on another two levels and finally walked on a plain surface. Scarlett closed her eyes to visualize the inn’s interior surface on her mind.

Rain got into the first door on the left. Boy got into the third room on the right. And Trey… he got into the last room on the light.

Perfect.

“Sweet dreams, Trey,” she said as she opened her own window and felt the cold night wind greeted her cheeks.