Wolf Ring Alpha (Wolves of Canada)(Hiatus)

The New Omega

They brought in a new wolf the very next day. At the first sound of heavy boots echoing down the hall, I morphed back to wolf, gasping as my bones rearranged. The last Changer who had been discovered was killed brutally, in front of all the others. We watched as he morphed back and forth from the pain.

I still remember both kinds of his screams. The human ones, and the horrible, blood-curdling wolf ones. Those ones chilled me and every other furred, four-pawed creature to the bone. Even the guard dogs had raised their muzzles and joined in the Mourning that night.

And no matter what, I refused to let that happen to me.

I stood up and slunk to the front of my cage. They were dragging a strong male, his pelt a rich, ash gray. A leather muzzle prevented him from biting. His blue eyes flashed dangerously. In the middle of his broad gray chest, there was a patch of white fur on the shape of a large bird.

He was a strange size for an Omega. I knew he was no Alpha-or even high ranked-because of the scent he carried. No, he was an Omega. Omegas were small. Not his size. He was the size of a Changer-large for a wolf or even a dog.

Strange. I moved closer to the mesh door, curiosity getting the better of me. Perhaps the second son of a high-ranked male? Of course, that made sense. He would have received the same training as the first sons-which supported his size-but would not be high-ranked.

I cocked my head. He was fighting viciously, snarling and snapping, though the muzzle prevented any damage. His sheer weight combined with his determination was steadily hauling the men backwards. More joined, holding him down so that they could clip more leads to his muzzle, collar and bulky harness. They dragged him towards the empty cage at my side.

I had killed its occupant two fights ago. She had put up a huge fight, because she had young pups, (just birthed three of my fights ago) that were sired by Gauge, as the men called him. He was the best male fighter in the Ring. He was a handsome male, but unfortunately, he was missing one eye, and one of his ears was almost completely bitten off.

Despite her determination to win, I had eventually caught up to her. She was weakened from the arduous birth, and it had taken no great effort to eliminate her. The pups were given to another female to nurse.

I was still guilty about that, and Gauge seemed to dislike me even more than he already did.

Understandable. Vera, as we called her, was his Chosen mate. His was unlikely that he would voluntarily sire any pups for a while. Of course, it wasn't like we wanted pups anyways. They forced us to breed like common dogs. I was lucky, I had been mostly spared from breeding because I was too good at drawing crowds. if I was pregnant, that would put me out of commission. As a result, revenues would go down.

I count myself among the lucky. Wolf mating wasn't exactly the nicest thing to go through, but then again it wasn't the worst. Especially when it was forced. Although, according to some of the outside wolves I managed to talk to before they were told who I was and hid from me, cat mating's were worse. Even the dogs told stories about the Ring cats, and the noises from the breeding room.

It was enough to make any wolf, large or not, shudder.

And sometimes, if it was really loud, you could hear it over hear. Occasionally you would hear screams-cat ones. It chilled you to the bone, and many wolves refused to exit their cages for a while afterwords. They had to be draged to their fights or to the Pen.

They shoved him in, unclipping all their leads at the exact same time. Precise. They had done it many times before. They always caught one when a wolf bit the dust and no pups were old enough to release into the Ring for the fights. He must be the replacement for the male I killed. The grey whirled, snarling viciously. I watched him through the bars to my right. They slammed the door in his face just as he lunged.