My Damaged Alpha

Chapter 5: Born to Run

Ominous thundering awoke me from my slumber. I lay in the forest, far from Ironcrest's borders. Placed in a cardboard box, a small blanket protects me from the elements. Shuffling out of my makeshift home, a note with neat handwriting fluttered to my paws.

"Dear Jules, my son,

I am doing this for your own good.

Women crowded your bed for power and wealth,

Now you don't have any of that.

The one who will love you at your weakest, will love you at your strongest.

Go find your mate and make me some Grand-pups.

Good luck and I love you my dear boy,

Pops XOXOXO"

Agitation and anger nipped at my confused mind. Abandoned in the middle of nowhere, I would have to navigate the unforgiving forests floors where predators loom near every turn. Owls, hawks, serpents, and rogues are only some dangers I would have to face in my journey.

Tearing up the note, I drag my blanket, out of the box, to the forest floor and scrunch it so it lies in a straight line.

Shuffling my fluffy head under the fabric, throwing my head back so the blanket rests on my neck. Proceeding to step on the left end with one paw and grabbing the other end in my mouth, I fish the right end through the left and continue to pull and repeat the process. My blanket now lay tied around my neck in a double knot. Knowing I might need it later for protection or shelter, it became my companion for the journey ahead.

Observing my surroundings, trees tower in the sky, blocking the dwindling light escaping from the dark, portentous clouds. Long blades of grass and wildflowers, gently touched by the wind, peppered along the valley floor. A small stream running along the valley forms a pathway through the woods. The music of rustling leaves and dancing grass blades sings a secret song following the wind's enchanting whispers and nature's percussive chanting. Following the soft melody, I alone witnesses the raw, gentle tune, a forgotten and ancient song of the wilderness.

The grass blades brush the fur along my back, almost completely encasing me in it's protective camouflage. The stream reflects the dying light, glistening, sparkling, tempting me to surrender my concealment.

Crouching behind a bush, I observe the clearing by the stream. It is out in the open , I could easily be attacked and killed. A bitter gust of wind bit my pink nose, carrying the stench of sweat, garbage, and death.

'Rogues', Atlas growled.

Rogues are werewolves who have either been banished from their packs and werewolf society due to either traitorous, heinous deeds or willingly choosing to live a life separate from a pack. The latter occurrence is very rare due to werewolf's extreme need for companionship.

Huddling deeper into the bush, to hide my presence, I waited nervously on the rogue's next actions. Strolling towards the stream, two males and one female, all covered in scars and filth, sauntered by the running water, unaware of my existence.

I intently watched the rogues as they refilled their water canisters and refreshed themselves. Thankfully, I lay in wait upwind from the threats.

Deep in conversation, the rogues sat by the stream.

"Boss went looking for half wolfs again," the dark skinned male commented.

"Again? I heard half werewolves are so rare they are basically legends," the female exclaimed, tossing her ratty blond braid over her shoulder.