Bad Boy Alphas

Eliza's Interlude | 2.2

From her seat atop a sturdy tree branch, Eliza didn't know what she was looking at. Or why she stayed long enough to watch what just happened in the first place. All she could rightfully conclude was that it was none of her business, which was awkward.

Super awkward...

While draining a squirrel of its last ounce of juice, its furry carcass trapped in between her blood-stained teeth, her amber brown eyes flickered over to the little mutt below.

Bruises marred the skin off his limbs, his arms and shins lined with purplish splotches. Disheveled white hair shone underneath the scant luminance of a crescent moon, appearing almost silver in the bits of brightness she could still peer through. A blindfold concealed the upper half of his face, followed up with some rope winding around his hands and feet.

She didn't get to hear most of the earlier commotion that occurred before feeding. Naturally, hunger was her biggest priority. But her gaze had still collected a part of this pup's story, stroking her own curiosity. Perhaps he was the ultimate runt, exiled from his own pack. Shunned by his family. Cast out for life.

What did they call those? Omegas? Not that it mattered for her to be knowledgeable in any aspect of the werewolf hierarchy in the first place.

Though she definitely should've turned her head the other way around, for a stray omega pup was far from worthy of her attention, she couldn't help but overstay. It wasn't often that recently orphaned werewolf kids showed up in her neck of the woods. And he was too small to be a real enemy anyway. She had to know what someone like him would do in a situation like this.

The first thing that surprised her was his resilience.

He used his teeth to bite through the rest of his ropes, gnawing and mouthing at the frayed threads until they snapped. His jaw chomped down against his wrists, bearing the weight of much drool and discomfort for a while. Then, his freed claws swiped at the rest around his feet. Lastly, he yanked the blindfold off, revealing puffy and swollen eyes.

Ah. So he'd been crying... Of course, that was probably what happened when one was freshly exiled. This was still awkward. Perhaps more so now than before. Eliza shrunk into her bat form, avoiding his frantic radar. His teary-eyed gaze swept over his new surroundings, hastily skipping her as she blended in with the leaves.

The darkness shielded her from sight, working as her ever so loyal confidante. For in the shadows, there would always be safety.

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Cyrus didn't know where to start. Discomfort itched his skin and fear tensed his nerves. He was tempted to transform, preferring the thicker hide of his wolf form, but he didn't want to drop into even more danger as a result. He wasn't all that big yet...

According to the tales Dad once told, vampires and mermaids could lurk in these very same woods. While the vamps popped up as common targets—being the thieving pests that they were—the mermaids posed as elusive tricksters. Rumors claimed that they lured their victims in through song. As long as Cyrus avoided any and all musical calls, he should be fine. Easy peasy.

He'll be alright. He'll make it back home. He'll make Dad proud.

Up ahead, he picked up on the sound of a stream running and someone sobbing.

Sobbing?

A high-pitched canine whine resonated, torn apart with several sniffles. Another one just like him—a girl from the sound of it. The familiarity of a second pup in his proximity prompted him forward.

Maybe he wouldn't get through this alone.

Hope surged from within as he leapt past logs and bounded into a grassy clearing. Trees parted the way once he reached the river stream, introducing her. She was curled up near a rocky edge, her rosy face buried in her hands. Slanted wolf ears wilted from her head of springy blonde ringlets. Her hiccups cut through a string of shallow breaths. Wrapped up in her own despair, she hadn't even noticed him yet.

"Are you..." A buzz of nervous energy plagued his mind with jumpy static. Mentally, he braced himself. Time to be a leader, just like Dad. Just as he was meant to be. "Are you okay?"

Stupid question. Clearly she wasn't. Dad wouldn't ask that to anyone either.

Blondie, since he didn't know her name yet, lifted her chin up to face him. Her cerulean eyes held a wet sheen to them, misty with leftover tears. "No, I'm– I'm lost. Mommy told me I could come with her to pick some herbs, but she's gone now. I dunno where she is."

"Hey, it's okay." Cyrus pointed at himself. "Um, I'm lost too. We can help find her together. Do you know what pack you're from?"

He hadn't thought to ask until now. He hoped she wasn't Grave Shadow.

"Slay Saber."

Relief echoed from the sigh that followed through. Slay Saber was their ally, as Dad had claimed. Blood Moon would understand.

"I'm from Blood Moon." He offered a shaky smile her way, attempting reassurance. "We're gonna be okay. We'll find your mommy."

"Th-thank you."

For a moment, her tiny hand delicately reached out for him. Trembling fingers brushed past his shoulder. Perhaps she was still scared? Or maybe grateful? He tried to relax, his smile fixed in the same awkward angle.

Then she shoved him into the water.