Claws and Fangs

Meet the Family

They peer at me not with the instant hatred I had expected, but with open curiosity. Mark steps forward and clears his throat, dragging their prickling gazes away from me.

"Where's my father?" he calls, his voice echoing through the cavern. 

"Do you need to be so dramatic?" I mutter. One of the people close enough to hear snickers, hiding it with a cough.

The others point towards the back, where a middle-aged man sits on a carved wooden throne. He stares hard at us, and rises slowly to his feet. I can't stop the urge to obey him, slight as it is, but it seems I can hate him for it.

He stares at me with calculating hazel eyes that make me want to run. He is stronger than me, because he has a pack, and because he has been an Alpha for years, but that's not what makes my stomach churn with fear. It's the way he looks at me, like meat on a stick to be roasted over a flame. My mother told me once of some pups that had looked at her like that when she was younger; they were banished from her clan when her father found out. I never understood why they received so harsh a punishment for looking until now. Under this gaze, I feel as vulnerable as if he could strip clothing from flesh and flesh from bone with those eyes.

The hair rises on my neck, and an unwilling growl escapes my jaws. I pretend the scent of power emanates off him like heat from a flame, that that's why I squirm. I can't bring myself to break eye contact, every second making me angrier for no apparent reason. I don't know how to react as he slowly stalks towards us, so I decide to be annoyed, taking a hesitant step back and crossing my balled up fists across my chest. Mark grips my arm and hauls me forward to stand in front of his father. I trip on a stone poking up from the floor and stumble. Cooper paces behind Mark's legs.

"You're the new Alpha." he observes. His voice is abysmally deep; it rings out through the cavern. clear as a bell.

I gather my will and force myself to stare him down. "Yes." His brows raise at my challenge, stretching the scar that cuts one in two. I realize that he's already seen me draw back from him, but the small victory of glaring him into surprise helps me ignore that fact. "Mona Fang, A-Alpha of Half-Moon. Pleasure to meet you." I throw in a wide grin that puts all my teeth on display, hoping he'll ignore my stumbling over my title. The only way he can accept the threat is to assume that I'm either stupid, or simply that powerful. As if I even know which it is.

The Mad Alpha throws the threat back in my face with a sneering grin of his own. "Isaac Claw, and I fear the pleasure will be all mine."

I glare at him as the disgust wells up in my belly. So I was right about the look he was giving me, not that it's any comfort. "What, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?" Another challenge. He'll have to dance around a bit to make up for me calling him on the innuendo.

Isaac steps forward and grabs my chin, jerking my head painfully to the side and tracing an old scar down my cheek. "It's a rough lifestyle, always running from your own kind." he says. So much for dancing.

I jerk my face out of his grip. "I manage. Must be rough going insane and locking yourself away for ten years, too."

Anger flickers in his eyes, and he draws back his hand as if to strike me. I glare at him, daring him to harm me. Give me one good reason to  try to kill you. But after a moment he lets his hand fall, the slightest smile tickling the corners of his mouth.

"Watch your step, Mona Fang. You may be an Alpha, but you have no pack and no territory. Your father was a good man, and for that I will allow you to shelter here. But while you are in my territory, you will obey my rules. Understood?"

I curl my lip in distaste. I will not be your prisoner you piece of -- "Fine," I grind out. I'm at his mercy, no matter what I want to believe, but I promise myself it will only be in one way. If he tries to lay a hand on me, I will tear it off.