Making The Alpha Submit (BL)

1: A PACK OF WEREWOLVES

October 5th, xxxx

ONE WOULD THINK THE world is ending if they venture anywhere near the winter forest; forest of dense, imposing trees, leaves spiky like the sting of a silver blade, of air so sharp a statue could freeze.

Of soil whiter than snow, softer than the clouds, a hideout for colourless bugs and termites, home to snowdrops and white foxes.

In the winter forest, everyone is as equal as the wild wolves that roam it-protectors of the land, guardians of the moon. When the forest breathes, the trees whistles and the owls soar overhead-a silent watch.

For as long as the forest has stood, for as long as the trees have lived, a day doesn't go by without the earth quaking, for there is a saying that 'when two or three wolves gather, the world feels as if it is ending'.

Eleven shifters-none in their full form but a paw here, hind legs there-shifting effortlessly between wolf and human engaged in a physical altercation. Werewolf vs werewolf. North Star Pack vs Blue Sun Pack.

Kamil sees the fist lunge at him just as he's shaking the ringing in his ears. He moves to dodge but he isn't fast enough and fist meets bone, the force of it jolts him back, knocking air out of him.

His opponent rush at him, grabs him by the waist and slams him so hard on the ground he feels the cold trail of blood matting his hair. Lifting his knee, he hits his opponent hard in the throat making him stumble and unable to deflect the kick that flies in his chest that crashes him to the ground.

A loud growl has Kamil whipping his head to the sound to find the Captain smashing two heads together, the force of it wobbling his stance.

Distracted, his opponent punches him hard on the nose and the ringing in his ears intensified; he hears the wild beating of his heart, the breaking of bones, the whacking of a tree branch to someone's head but he shakes it off, ignores it as the shifter thinking he'd won rushes at him, leaving himself wide open.

Big mistake, Kamil thinks. Timing it perfectly, he throws a vicious, skillful blow at his nose-bone meets bone, he hears the satisfying crunch as the shifter falls to the ground, a painful growl so loud it could scratch iron bellows out.

One eye shut, cheeks scratched, head bleeding and guts burning, Kamil stagger towards the howling shifter, grabs him by the hair and hammers his head so hard into the ground his scream halts everyone.

Breathing hard, his eyes finds the shocked expression of the Blue Sun instigator in the grip of the Captain who nods in his direction, a wild-eyed shifter's arm locked by another soldier blinks, her face the carbon copy of blood.

In a furious state of embarrassment, the instigator bangs her head into the Captain's face subsequently freeing herself and lurches her paws towards him, scratching him in the chest.

Kamil remains where he is, noticing that even though they are outnumbered seven to four, they are holding their own. The shifter slumped on the ground makes whimpering noises, face buried in his palms. In a similar position, another weakly crawls like a snail, trying to escape his attention.

He moves to drag her back by the legs but notes that the fight is basically over. Him and the two others have successfully subdued their adversaries but the instigator and Captain are still stubbornly going at it, each not considering the fight finished until one begs for mercy.

Territory is a bone of contention between their pack and the Blue Sun for almost a century and it'll continue to be because the Blue Sun bullheaded Alpha refuses to make amends.

But what he does is send eager trigger-happy omegas to infiltrate their territory to ̶a̶t̶t̶e̶m̶p̶t̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶k̶i̶l̶l̶ hassle their Alpha. It is starting to look very pathetic, actually.