Alphas *TO BE RE-WRITTEN*

Chapter 3: First Run

After everyone had left, I got the wonderful job of cleaning up cups and plates and bowls still half-filled with chips and dip. I scrubbed viciously at the dishes trying to clear them of their contents when Michael came down from his shower.

I glanced over my shoulder and nearly dropped the bowl I was scrubbing. I set the bowl down and turned around, leaning against the counter, trying not to stare. "Did you have a nice shower?" I asked.

He smiled and walked over to where I stood. He wore a pair of black sweats and no shirt whatsoever, baring every inch of his muscled abdomen. He had a complete eight pack, elegantly sculpted pecs, and bulging biceps that flexed just slightly as he approached. "Yes, actually, I did," he replied. "Are you haning fun with chores?"

My eyes narrowed for a second, but then I smiled too. "As a matter of fact, I am. I'm actually almost done," I said, motioning to the remaining dishes, which consisted of two wine glasses and the bowl I was scurbbing when he came down. "And just before 3:30am."

He stopped just in front of me and glanced over my shoulder. From where I stood I could smell his body wash and see traces of steam still rising off his shoulders. His shaggy hair was wet and clung to his forehead and temples, and his sweatpants hung a little too far down... "Good job, Ren. Do you chores back home?" he asked, seeming not to notice me looking at him.

I turned back around and resumed my cleaning. "Actually no I don't," I said.

Michael leaned against the couter beside me, crossing his arms over his bare chest and watched me as I swiped away the last of the gunk on the bowl. "I figured as much. Exactly why you'll have some chores here. To help with your irresponsibility," he said.

"I'm not irresponsible," I said, starting to get irate again.

"Is that why you failed my class?" he asked.

I glared at him as he just grinned.

"Did you have fun tonight?"

"I guess. I made friends with Daniel and Silver," I replied, trying to calm down my anger from being called 'irresponsible.'

He nodded. "Good, good. I was hoping for as much. Maybe you'll have someone to run with in a few hours," he said.

I set the bowl on the towel that was laid out beside the sink for the rinsed dishes to dry. "Run? You guys all go jogging through town?" I asked.

He chuckled. "I forgot, your pack never goes for runs," he said. "We go running, but not through town and not as our human selves."

I swiped out the inside of one of the wine glasses. "So you guys actually take the drive up into the woods for runs?" I asked.

He nodded. "It's a good stress reliever, and when we hunt, it keeps the rank of each wolf in clear perspective. It's also a great way to keep our bonds strong."

Bonds. My family never bonded with each other, or with the rest of the pack for that matter. Dad never tooks us anywhere as a pack, so we were all confined to the city limits. I hadn't been in my wolf skin for nearly a year since I almost got caught by the police when I was running through an allyway.

"Your father is a good leader, but not a great one. He's overlooking the very basics of keeping his pack strong," he said.

I nodded. "I know," was all I could reply. Yes, my father wasn't a very good leader. He brushed me off whenever I came up with an idea to get the pack together to just hang out and talk. I was actually a little jealous of the Dahlia Pack because of how close they were with each other.

My body language must have told Michael that I was upset because he gently patted my shoulder as I rinsed out the last wine glass. "It's late, and we get up rather early for runs. Go on up to bed, I'll finish up the dishes," he said.