The Tracking

The Taking: Prologue

So, copyright crap blah blah blah. So this is my story, idea, characters and it belongs to me. Try to steal it and the Feds will be coming after you.

Werewolves, anyone?

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The cathedral was overflowing with wealth and power.

Silk covered every inch of exposed wall and the red petals of roses stained the polished marble flooring like drops of blood. Church pews were set up in two long rows; one side for the groom the other for his bride. The unattractive bronze chandeliers were blotted out from view by hundreds of dark green vines.

The Catholic auditorium had an an enchantment about it that transformed it from a drab place of religion into an indoor forest of lights and fantasy.

The guests were humming with words, their voices excited and slightly impatient. Rolex watches and Tiffany jewels were glittered in the soft glow of the candle light. This was the event of the year and only the best of the best were awarded with save the date letters to award them for their earthly power.

The alter was without a doubt the crowned jewel of the establishment with it's towering arch adorned with hundreds, if not thousands, of flowers. It's iron skeleton was barely seen beneath the mass of tamed, white flora.

The striking groom stood under the portal of flowers, his foot tapping in irritation. He wanted the ceremony-this insufferable show- to be over and done with as soon as possible. He stood with his back erect, sharp gaze trained on the large wooden doors at the back of the cathedral. Even now he had the stance of a warlord.

The groom had a facial bone structure made of diamond slicing angles and edges, with eyebrows that say strong and thick over his wickedly blue eyes. Smart blonde hair was gelled to the side, not a single strand out of place. A black suit that sung the tune of wealth hugged his tall, broad form.

A few minutes passed, before his foot tapping transformed into pacing.

Where is she?

The guest's whispers steadily evolved from excited exclamations to worried or agitated comments. The twenty seven year old groom was growing increasingly livid. He always did have a short temper and his fuse was almost up.

Suddenly, the low grown of the cathedral door opening cut through the room, silencing the hushed murmuring. The groom's ice eyes filled with rage as he saw not his stunning bride, clothed in white, but her stout, meek excuse of a father. Storming over to him, steps hard and sure, his eyes flashed dangerously causing the poor man to tremble slightly.

The groom took a deep breath, before counting to ten. He must not lose his cool in front of all these putrid humans. There must be an agreeable reason as to why he was kept waiting for forty minutes. And if not, well, he would have to find a recipient to take on the brunt of his rage. The quivering, foolish mess of a man cowering in front of him was looking like a rather apt victim. The beast inside snarled in pleasure at the thought of it's jaws clamping around the shaking man's throat and the warm blood that would douse his rage.

Signaling with his hand for the older man to follow him, he made his way out of the cathedral and into the lobby. The moment the distraught father shut the engraved doors with a satisfying click the livid alpha towered over the submissive male.

"Where is she, Redford?" He snarled, his heavy accent twisting the already cruel words into something dark and sinister. His eyes flashed dangerously. The squat man, with a tragically receding hairline, flinched. The thought of the Alpha's reaction to his news had his stomach turning. Visions of the large man, and his beast, ending him permanently flashed through his mind like a morbid slideshow of fangs and claws. The alpha was already visibly shaking with anger from the embarrassment of waiting for a late bride.

The terrified man knew that the finely dressed Alpha hated anything other than extreme punctuality, so why he wanted to marry the likes of his daughter was beyond Christopher Redford. Five minutes late to the rest of the world was five minutes early to her.

Struggling to meet the mighty gaze of the Russian Alpha, the man quietly murmured, "She's gone, sir. Disappeared during the night."

Silence swirled around Christopher, choking him like the thick wool blanket his older brother would wrap his head in during their childhood spats. He kept his eyes trained on the floor, following the swirling designs of the marble with his irises.

He was going to kill that girl, the start man thought. She may not know of the world she was adopted into, or how it worked, but she still understood that she had a duty to her family and the powerful man who wanted her as his. Her rebellious tantrums and hate filled words were one thing, but to fully abandon her duties? Utterly shameful. Especially after the life of luxury he and his wife had provided for the rebellious girl. She owed them this.

"What do you mean- gone?" The Alpha spit out, jaw ticking at a feverish pace. These Americans wolves were nothing more than incapable pups.

How hard is it to keep track of a young human woman, barely more than a girl? He thought. The dark beast, ripping at the seems of his control, snarled in agreement.

The juvenile had no wolf blood flowing through her veins. She was utterly defenseless when it came to a species made up of claws, fangs and supreme intelligence.

"We found her bedroom empty- along with a substantial amount of her belongings missing. We believe my daughter has run, sir."

Alpha Vlacin roared, the room shaking from his primitive snarl. A sickening crack echoed off the tall walls as he slammed his knuckles into the concrete. The wood covering it splintered into tiny shards and flew through the air. A few pieces found a new home in the tattered skin surrounding Alpha Vlacin's crushed knuckles.

He stared at the vandalized wall; his ice pupils were flittering back and forth at an almost incomprehensible rate. The man was brilliant and his ability to find patterns and compose strategies brought even the greatest to their knees with their necks barred. The poor renegade of a girl was nothing more than an elementary challenge to the seasoned warrior.

Valcov paused.

"Well," He began, eyes calculating and voice a terrifying calm that had Redford pale. His shattered hand had begun to right and reconnect itself, his powerful blood pumped through his veins at an incredible rate, healing his injury almost instantaneously. "She's nothing more than a human girl, how far could she run?"

A wicked grin suddenly split his face. He had always loved a good chase and if his little human wanted to play cat and mouse, or wolf and lamb in this case, she would get her wish.

"Come," With the flick of his hand the men who had slowly been trickling into the room, at the request of their alpha, quickly assembled into two organized single filed lines and began following the towering man. Eyes glinting with excitement, and wolf snarling to escape, he walked towards the door leading to the outside.

The guests on the pews cried out in outrage, infuriated at what a waste of time this entire ordeal had been. It was quite apparent there would be no wedding that day. Alpha Vlacin had ceased to bother himself with caring, though. His canines were lengthening and his eyes flashed from blue to black at the thought of hunting down the foolish young girl.

"We have a female to track." He announced to the men flanking his side. And track her down, he would.

Alpha Vlacin wanted what was his.