Torn From The Alpha

Chapter 1

"You know, Riv', there are more important things in life than food," said my brother, Ethan.

I looked at him in shock. "How could you even say that?" I said sarcastically.

I had been cooking for over 2 hours now. It wasn't anything special, just cookies, and some recipes I came up with.

But Ethan knew why I cooked all the time. It was my stress reliever. Anytime the pack hit a problem, or something really stresses me out, I cook.

Ethan always makes fun of me for it. He occasionally calls me Betty Crocker, even though I threaten to cut off his fingers if he does.

"You need a new hobby," he said. "If you cook all the time you're going to get fat."

I glared at him playfully. "Asshole," I mumble.

"I heard that," he said, leaning on the counter to the kitchen.

"Good," I say, smirking at him.

His jaw drops, pretending to be hurt by my comment.

"Albino," he whispered, and I dropped my whisk.

"I'm not an albino!" I yelled in annoyance. When we were kids instead of Betty Crocker, he would call me an albino because of my pale complexion.

My skin was very pale, and my hair was a very pale blonde, almost white. None of my family had any one of these physical traits, except for me.

"Yes, you are," he said, laughing at me.
I gave him the death glare, and pointed my whisk at him. "I will beat you with this," I threatened.

"You wouldn't do that," he said. "The alpha can't beat their pack members." I simply glared at him.

"I'll make an exception," I said.

He pinched my nose, and I swatted his hand away. "You're such a goofy goober," he said.

"Go be weird somewhere else," I said. "And I'm not a goofy goober, or whatever the hell that is."

He sighed sarcastically, and finally left me in peace.

I set my whisk down, and went to wash my hands. Then all of a sudden, a pain like no other erupted in my mind.

I fell to my knees and clutched my head between my hands, and tried to control the pain. It lasted for a few more seconds, then died away, leaving an emptiness behind.

Oh god, I thought. I felt that through the pack's mind link. I got a sick feeling in my stomach. I only felt a pain like that when a member of my pack has died.

I rushed out of my cabin to find complete chaos. People were running out of their homes in panic, some had already turned and had fled. What was going on?

Then I caught a scent. It smelled like citrus, and a hint of honey.

I followed the unfamiliar scent. A pack was attacking us. But why? We had lived in isolation for years. The only people my pack had come into contact with were people just passing by, and maybe a stray rogue or two.

The coppery smell of blood hit my senses. I looked to my right to see a gray wolf pounce on one of my pack mates.

I wanted to turn and tear the wolf's throat out, but killing one wolf wouldn't stop 20 others. I needed to find the alpha.

I ran through the forest. Most likely the alpha would be fighting with his pack, so he would be in the middle of all the action.

I walked around all the fighting wolves, and tried to find the alpha. It would be obvious he was the alpha. He would be stronger, faster, and just overall more powerful than anyone out in the field.