alfa fuar

prologue

All werewolves were created by God and bound by their mate bonds.

Two halves become one.

A mate.

An equal in all ways.

The other half of their soul.

One cannot survive without the other.

A mate is a balm to the soul. A mate can soothe their other half in a way that no other can.

Without the light that a  mate brings to a male wolf, they will eventually succumb to the darkness. 

Once they have 'fallen' into the darkness they become feral, their primal side, the wolf taking over. The man is now lost for good.
Females are precious.

They are what keep us alive.

They are to be treasured. Cherished.

To hurt a female of any species is one of the most heinous crimes a man can commit. Second only to that is the crime of harming a youngling.
Next to our pups,  females are the most treasured. Our young are our future, and females are those that gift us our futures.

They must be protected. They are to be cherished.

•
•

The darkness is all-consuming.

The weight of it weighs me down as I go through the motions of my monotonous existence.

I feel like every breath is a chore.

The mundane nature of life, and the suffocating loneliness of a ruler is unending.

I am not living. I am merely existing.

The only thing that wakes me every morning is the hope that she's out there somewhere.

I am the Alpha King, ruler of all of the werewolves throughout all Ireland, but alas I am still a man. I have lived far too long without my Queen by my side. Wolves in my position would have completely lost themselves to the darkness inside years ago.

In every male, there is a darkness that lies within that only their mate can quell. Without the balm that a mate provides, the wolf falls further into madness.

A 'fallen' wolf is a dangerous wolf.
They become feral, and the man is forever lost to the wolf within.
A  feral wolf has no control. It will then become necessary for the  Alpha to put the feral wolf down.
The 'fallen wolf' is an unpredictable danger to the pack and their self.

I know what those around me think. I hear what they say. The whispers passed along throughout the castle.

They wait for me to snap.
They wait for me to fall.
I have watched as humanity evolved and watched with hurt in my heart as they learned their lessons far too late. I have watched as humanity rallied behind one another in triumph, and I have watched them turn against those whose differences they felt threatened by. I have watched it all with a heavy heart. The highest of highs and the lowest of lows.

Alone.

The job of a King is a lonely one. Without a queen to share it with, the isolation can be overwhelming.
I have no shortage of servants, a title I loathe to use,  but they tread carefully around me. They look at me with trepidation,  every step they make hesitant and unsure. To them, I am unpredictable,  a ticking time bomb that could explode at any moment. A ruler's life is a  lonely one.

Any family I had left has long since passed, and even the few servants that are confident enough to talk to me still hesitate to give more than casual pleasantries.

I ache to hold the other half of my soul, to hold her in my arms, and cherish her for the rest of our days.  But even more than love or passion, I crave companionship. I want to have someone to share the burdens of ruling an entire species. I need someone to soothe the ever-growing darkness surrounding me.

I just need someone.

Every day I pray, and with every new day that comes without her there, I feel the hope fade out of me. Each new day without her feels like a whip to my flesh. With every day the sun rises and falls, I feel the world lose its color.

I need her.
I need my heart.

How much longer must I go on; living this drab and meaningless existence without my very reason to live beside me?