My entire life I was taught, 'to be human is to love even if it gets to become too hard'. I never understood that lesson until the Blood Alpha came back. I thought my mother was mistaken for describing us as human instead of Lycan. As the details of the deaths touched my ears my mind raced. The lesson etched into every fiber of my body became very clear. My mother was not describing us as human, but rather describing the part that made us human instead of a monster. Love.
My heart shattered at every death that was on the Blood Alphas hands. I remembered the first death like it was yesterday, instead of five years ago. The Alpha of crimson had disappeared, as did his pack, 25 years ago. Five years ago the first drop of blood was spilled. The ruthless murder of the Alpha of the night howlers. His body was hung upside down, a giant gash across his throat. A huge puddle of blood below him. A note with black ink placed in the puddle, signed the Crimson Alpha.
After the 6th death he became, The Blood Alpha, Alpha of the Crimson pack. He continues to live up to his name, striking fear into the hearts of all.
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Fear Him
WerewolfThe thought of him makes people cower. His name makes people choke. His face is unknown. He's killed hundreds and condemned to hell. Not even his own pack knows what he looks like. Nobody knows what he looks like. He is a monster. A killer. F...
