The True Alpha: Bad Blood //jjk

52: The Chosen One

A/N: thank you so much for 10k reads, i love you guys so much <33333

"True Alphas hid themselves from the world because they were cursed; like how the moon hides itself in the sky, away from anything bright. They were considered as sins, as being cursed and tainted by anger. Seen as monsters, pictured as killers, believed to be destroyer of worlds. They were a being made of anger and death. Bad Blood was in their veins – poisoned by the moon goddess herself to punish us all" Sighing, Jinsang took a deep breath. "That's what they forced them all to believe, once you were gone. It gave them a narrative to justify their massacre."

"Was it true?" The boy asked, his eyes holding fear and insecurity. "Were they really like that? Is there bad blood in my veins too?"

Jungkook, the True Alpha, had taken a step forward and now, his eyes trailed the outlines of his veins that ran down his arms. He swallowed dryly; his eyes trembled in their cavities. Surely, if bad blood was in veins, it would make sense to him. The way death fitted him so well, the easiness with which he slaughtered, the anger and the wrath that he embodied and that was, at times, the only thing that kept him alive. How many had died in his hands? By his hands or due to them, Jungkook and death walked, in fact, hand in hand.

"Some would believe it was. For moments even I was inclined to believe in such a thing" The old figure said, a moment of silence lingering in the air. "Our eyes, our ears... they can deceive us. Our heart never could. And I believed, and I felt strongly in my heart the purest of truths. That if, in a far away time, there were vile wolves, True Alphas they could never be. For one of them, the one they have waited for to rule and lead them of their hiding, has proven to be a wolf made of gold. A wolf unlike any others due to the weight in his heart, the weight on his back, the strength in his blood. A wolf that, I'm sure, can erase this world of all of the sins that have been casted on us. A wolf that is all of us, and one. Chosen by the moon goddess to bless us all. Some might think he's cursed, yet, in his eyes only greatness and honour swirls. He is blessed, kissed by the stars. Nothing of "bad" paints his blood; his blood is made of gold and the stars. And the world, the universe, time and space – bow their head to him. Just like the planets orbit around the sun, so all things in the world orbit the chosen one. These hands on the wall, are those who believed one day he would come to save them all from the darkness of the universe. These red eyes, drawn with their own blood, are meant to mimic his that shine guidance and care in anything it touches. And this throne made of stone, sturdy, tall and strong just like him. Is meant to give him a place to rule, to guide.... a place at the centre of the universe.... at the centre of a pack"

Jungkook's feet moved; they were guided, led by a sudden... need. His eyes glowing, sharp, bright, fiery scanned the details Jinsang had mentioned. The handprints on the wall that turned the once grey boring surface, into promises, beliefs and compromises that had lasted throughout time. Bonds that could not be severed, could not be erased by eternity. His eyes locked with the ones drawn on the wall; they too in blood so that, they too – like everything else in that space – would stay and always remain. At last, his feet touched the throne. The seat sturdy, tall, strong, broad, like a mountain who cannot be moved, who cannot be conquered; and, yet, the frail body he considered his to be, was the exact personification of it. The Alpha allured by the aura, the feeling of belonging that sight aroused in him; allowed his hands to leisurely, carelessly caress the surface of the throne. For a few seconds, his back was turned to it. Instead, he faced the water that ran; that fell from the rocks in a tide full of rage, although, in his eyes, some beauty in it, it held.

"And yet, they died..." Jungkook's voice was mellow, his tone whispery like. His heart weighted on his chest, his conscience troubled stabbed itself with a knife. Why did he feel... guilty? "Everything... for a wolf that did not arrive"