Wolf Ring Alpha (Wolves of Canada)(Hiatus)

Tyrone's Mate

To my first readers, the ones who read this before I edited everything I had so far, yes, I DID change Gabela's nick-name-thingy name to Storme, instead of Sable.

Cuz I found out that sable is, in fact, a brownish colour. So I chose Storme instead-cuz it seemed to fit her temper and her bipolar reactions well. Please don't be mad with meeeeeeeeee! XD

Oh, and there's some boyxboy fluffy stuff in this chapter-I've never written that kind of stuff before but I read waaay too much yaoi manga and read a lot of boyxboy books here on Wattpad so I'm trying my hand at it. We'll pick up with Gabela (Storme) and Blitz next chapter. Kay? Kaaay!

~Rawiya

Tyrone was confused. Gab-Storme-had been out for two days, and her mate had bolted from her room, and moped in the game room for about three hours before beelining for Storme. The game room that ther Alpha herself had designed and had often withdrawn to when the duties that came with being an Alpha became too much. Which didn't happen often, but when it did she sequestered herself for a day or two before re-emerging, stoic and frigid.

Sometimes he worried about her. And now, more than ever, he was concerned. Blitz had bolted, only to return a day later, and he still hadn't come out of Storme's rooms yet. And her heat had started. No unmated male could miss that delicious scent, carrying promise and power. That was when he knew for sure that Gab-Storme-was Blitz's mate. The first heat of an Alpha's (or future Alpha's) mate affected every male in the Pack territory in which she resided.

And the unmated males had been barely beaten off by the mated. All the males in the pack were nursing a wound of some sort. The squabble had been intense. Tyrone had locked himself in a janitorial supplies closet until the scent went away and his wolf calmed enough to be lucid and stop giving him flashes of the times he had seen Gab-Storme-after she had shifted to human. The sight and thought of her naked was torturing. Eventually he emerged with stiff limbs and sleeping feet that were still plagued by pins and needles. But those weren't even the beginning of his problems.

No, it was the whelp. The one Storme had brought back with her as a pet. The human. The boy was driving him ballistic. Remembering the betrayal in his eyes as he looked at Storme-and something else that made his hackles rise. Those eyes should be looking at him-should be clouded with desire and lust.

He shook his head abruptly.

He had to stop that.

He wasn't gay.

Nor did he like humans.

Especially not the male ones.

But those boy's black eyes haunted his memory. Even when he shut his eyes, those orbs, black as Storme's hair, were burned into the back of his eyelids. So he did the only thing that made his mind go completely blank no matter what the problem.

He went to play Call of Duty with the pups.

And got creamed. By two-year-old to six year old pups. All of the pups had been born in wolf form, as Mist Rock couldn't afford to let them grow slowly in human form. They were so close to a war, and they needed all the warriors possible. CoD and Halo and other video games were one of the only breaks Storme allowed her wolves from schooling and training.

She made the young ones go to a boarding school for shifters about two hours away the fall after they turned into their humans for the first time. The Mist Rock Pack members were social rejects, so they banded together to study, train and get through the five-year-program that compressed the learning of all the human schools-elementary, junior high and high school into a werewolf-friendly curriculum. After that, they returned home and continued their fighting training.