The Alpha and The Enforcer [TATE]

Chapter 1

Ellie's P.O.V

There's something in the way the night lingers, in the silence before dawn, that makes me feel free. The wind bites at my skin as I run, tearing through the woods where even shadows know to stay out of my path. Here, I'm just Ellie, a creature running to escape, to feel something other than the sting of the past. Every step reminds me why I am who I am, and why I can't let my guard down. Not anymore.

People call me cold, heartless even. Some even whisper that I've forgotten how to feel. Maybe they're right. After all, what's left to feel when even your mate, the one person who should be bound to you by fate, rejects you? What else is there when he cast me aside like I was nothing, leaving scars that no amount of running will ever heal. I don't let the pain show. Pain only makes you weak, and I have no room for weakness. Not anymore.

My name is Ellie Hudson, and according to the history books, I'm the greatest female warrior in werewolf history. It sounds impressive, doesn't it? Like I've always been meant for greatness. But it didn't start that way. I was abandoned at birth, left in a basket on the pack's eastern border with nothing but a baby blanket marked with a single letter E. No note, no parents, no explanations. Just left to fate, like I was a burden even from birth. For whatever reason, they had to give me up, I'm not too interested in finding out. Nor do I care about who they are.

Uncle Ted, the current Enforcer of the Midnight Moon pack, found me that night, heard the cries of a helpless pup on the edge of the territory. The Eastern Borders to be exact. He and Aunt Mariah took me in and raised me as their own. They became my family, even if they could never fully erase the sting of being unwanted. Uncle Ted taught me how to be strong. Aunt Mariah, a pack doctor, taught me that strength doesn't only come from pain. They loved me when no one else did, and without them, I wouldn't have made it this far. Despite being adopted by them, I never called them Mom or Dad. I can't explain it. I see them as a parental figure but could never bring myself to call them such titles. But they never mind it. Never forced me to call them anything else. And I never fail to tell them how much I love them.

Despite all those trials, I rose. I became a Midnight Moon's warrior in training to be the next Enforcer, the one who trains warriors in fighting strategies as well as discipline and skill. I'm not only strong; I'm relentless. And yes, I'm blunt, guarded-distant, even. I've learned that closeness is a luxury I can't afford. The pack may see me as cold, but I protect them because that's the only family I have ever known, the only purpose that keeps me fighting.

So, here I am again, running through the woods at 4:30 a.m., not because I have to, but because I need to. To be better. To be free.

If you guys haven't figured it out yet, I'm a werewolf. Yes, we do exist; we just keep ourselves hidden from the human world. You know how humans are-they love to poke around in things they don't understand, and I'd rather not give them a reason to dig too deep. So here I am, running through the woods of the Midnight Moon Pack, the cool breeze slicing across my face as I chase the dawn. I returned just after midnight from the Silver Blade's pack, where I spent days training their warriors to match my skills. As the greatest female warrior in werewolf history, I don't just train my pack; I'm expected to elevate everyone around me, turning mere pups into formidable fighters.

I rolled back into my house around 7:30 a.m., feeling the familiar ache in my legs that told me I've pushed myself just enough. Running is my therapy, my escape; it clears my mind and keeps my instincts sharp. After a quick shower, I threw on a black blouse and matching pants, opting for practicality over flair. Black boots? Always. I combed my hair back into a tight ponytail, knowing it would only get messy again soon.

Once I downed a steaming mug of coffee, I washed my mug and made my way to the pack house. It was almost 8 a.m., and I could sense the usual stillness as I walked in-most people were still wrapped in the comfort of sleep. But Uncle Ted would be up; he always is. Aunt Mariah was off running errands for her family in another pack, probably bossing people around as usual. Uncle Ted, bless him, can't win a fight with her when she's in one of her moods-his love for her is like an anchor, keeping him firmly at her side.