Alpha Kael

The members of the Goldmoon Pack were finally settled. The new routine flowed smoothly, the scent of pine and damp earth a constant, comforting presence in their new territory. It had taken a few days to transfer everyone, but now they were all home. At last, they had a place to call their own within these ancient woods. The children, especially those who would gain their wolves with the next full moon, buzzed with an energy that was infectious.

Kael was in his office, a spacious room built from dark timber, when the mind link from his patrollers at the main gate buzzed in his head. "Alpha, we have some guests at the front who request an audience."

"Do you know who they are?" Kael asked, his pen stilling over the territorial maps.

"I believe so, Alpha, but I’m not one hundred percent certain. One of them... she has a very strong aura."

"Are they a threat?" Kael’s voice went flat, his focus sharpening instantly.

"No, Alpha. But if things were to turn sour, I doubt my men and I would be able to stop them."

"Got it. Hold your positions. I’ll be right there." Kael closed the link and rose from his desk. He quickly linked his head warrior, ordering the pack to be on high alert. Then, he strode out of the office, shifting mid-stride into his large, pale gold wolf. He darted through the trees, a silent blur against the forest floor, toward the main entrance. Their move wasn’t a secret; he’d sent letters to the neighboring Alphas, announcing his intention to begin formal visits this week. But this felt different. Unannounced. Powerful.

He reached the entrance and shifted back, the change fluid and practiced. A warrior was already there with a pair of shorts, which he donned before stepping out from behind the line of trees. A huge, genuine grin spread across his face when he spotted his visitors. "Elder Seers! What an honor. What brings you here?" He strode toward the ’mature’ woman, as she insisted on being called, and embraced her in a hug so strong it lifted her small frame off the ground.

"You little rascal, put me down this instant!" Elder Cyntia Seers huffed, though a wide smile stretched across her wrinkled face. "Tsk, it seems all that milk you drank as a pup only made your muscles grow, not your brain."

The Goldmoon warriors standing guard were visibly shocked at the casual disrespect, but Kael just threw his head back and laughed. "Ahh... Aunty... I mean, Elder Seers, I’m glad to know you’re still as feisty as ever." He turned his gaze to the young she-wolf standing patiently behind her. "Now, who is this lovely creature that has my men so distracted?"

Elder Seers reached back and brought the younger woman forward to stand by her side. "Alpha Kael, I would like to introduce my granddaughter, Alexa. She came of age a year ago and has yet to find her mate. We believe he may be in another pack, and since I had some business in the area, I thought, why not kill two birds with one stone?"

Kael bowed his head slightly, a gesture of deep respect. "As expected of our most illustrious Council member. I and my pack would be honored to host you." He turned, giving his men a flurry of instructions to pass along the pack link. He knew by the time they reached the pack house, two of the best guest rooms would be prepared and waiting. "Your visit comes at a fortuitous time."

"How so?" Elder Cynthia asked as they began the walk to the pack house. She’d waved off the offered vehicle, declaring that a brisk walk was one of her keys to staying young.

"Well, if Alexa’s mate is not among my members, then perhaps he is at one of the packs I am scheduled to visit over the next few weeks. You are more than welcome to join our little delegation as we attempt to make friends and allies with our neighbors."

Elder Cynthia nodded in agreement. The walk was pleasant, the air crisp. Soon they arrived at the large, log-built pack house, and both women were shown to their rooms. Kael retreated to his office with his Beta to make the necessary arrangements. Since Elder Cynthia had not informed him of her visit, he was certain she wished their presence to remain unknown for now.

Looking at the list in his hands, Kael saw that the first pack on his itinerary was the Bloodmoon Pack. He only hoped that, despite its ominous name, his visit would be without fighting or drama.

Trishelle

Trishelle hadn’t been feeling well for days. It wasn’t just the lack of proper meals or the constant, bone-deep exhaustion from being overworked. It wasn’t even the bullying, which had become a daily, soul-crushing ritual. It was the nightmares.

She’d had nightmares before, fleeting images of running from flames, but the last few nights were different. They always started the same, with her running through the dark woods, but now she wasn’t running from fire. She was running from something else, something she could never escape. Cold, clammy, disembodied hands would paw at her, tripping her, sending her sprawling to the ground. Then they would be on her, ripping at her clothes while someone laughed—a deep, cruel laugh she was beginning to recognize. Men’s faces, twisted with lust, would loom over her before she could feel them forcing themselves between her legs.

No matter how much she screamed or begged, they never stopped. They took her again and again, and the more she cried, the more they seemed to enjoy it. Finally, she would see a pair of booted feet next to her head. She would look up, her heart seizing in her chest, and come face to face with the gleeful, sneering look of Alpha James. "Fellas," he’d say, his voice like poison. "Isn’t she just good enough to sample?"

It was the third night, and Trishelle was trapped in the nightmare again. She thrashed in her sleep, tears streaming down her face. She woke up with a silent scream caught in her throat, the phantom feel of hands on her shoulders so real she flinched violently. A man’s hands. She began to scream, but a hand clamped over her mouth, smothering the sound. Panic, pure and blinding, seized her. She grabbed onto the hand and bit down as hard as she could, tasting blood. All she could think about was getting out of the room, but what if his friends were waiting outside?

"Ahh... damn it, Rosebud! Since when did you get so thorny?" a familiar voice hissed in pain.

Trishelle stilled, her entire body freezing at the old nickname. "Sammy? Sammy, is it really you?"

"What the hell... of course it’s me. Wait a sec." There was some shuffling in the dark, then the beam of a phone’s flashlight cut through the gloom, illuminating Sammy’s concerned face. "See? It’s me."

The sight of her best friend was the final crack in the dam. Trishelle couldn’t hold back the tears anymore and began to sob, deep, wracking sobs that shook her entire body.

"Hey, hey, talk to me. Tell me what happened," Sammy pleaded, his voice soft.

Trishelle just shook her head, the tears refusing to stop. "Okay, Rosebud, okay," he murmured, pulling her into a tight hug. "Just let it all out. When you’re ready, you’ll tell me."

Sammy wasn’t sure how long he just held her, letting her cry into his T-shirt. When the sobs finally subsided to hiccups, he gently wiped her nose with the hem of his shirt. After one last sniff, Trishelle began to talk. She told him everything that happened after he left the party—the drink Candice gave her, waking up in the Alpha’s bed, and the horrible, casual way James had described taking her virginity while she was in a drug-induced heat.

As Sammy listened, he could feel a white-hot rage building inside him. He was furious at the she-wolf who had distracted him, at Candice for getting Trishelle drunk, and at the Alpha who had taken advantage of his friend. But mostly, he was livid with himself. It was the first time he had ever ignored his gut instinct, and now his precious Rosebud was paying the price.

"Trishelle, I am so, so sorry that happened to you," he said, his voice thick with self-loathing. "I failed you as a friend. I never should have left you alone. I knew it was your first time at something like that. I let my guard down, thinking you were safe on pack grounds, and after the way everyone treated you that day... If you never forgive me, I will understand. I don’t think I could even forgive myself. I should have known something was wrong the moment the Gamma asked me to leave, without even giving me a chance to say goodbye to you."

Trishelle shook her head, pulling back to look at him. She raised her hands and cupped both of his cheeks. "It’s not your fault, Sammy. Not really. Even if you had stayed, they would have just tried something another time. I don’t hate you, so please don’t hate yourself. Right now, I’m just so glad to have my best friend back." She looked at him, her eyes pleading. "Can you hold me? I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep, but Trishelle hadn’t been feeling well for days. It wasn’t just the lack of proper meals or the constant, bone-deep exhaustion from being overworked. It wasn’t even the bullying, which had become a daily, soul-crushing ritual. It was the nightmares.

She’d had nightmares before, fleeting images of running from flames, but the last few nights were different. They always started the same, with her running through the dark woods, but now she wasn’t running from fire. She was running from something else, something she could never escape. Cold, clammy, disembodied hands would paw at her, tripping her, sending her sprawling to the ground. Then they would be on her, ripping at her clothes while someone laughed—a deep, cruel laugh she was beginning to recognize. Men’s faces, twisted with lust, would loom over her before she could feel them forcing themselves between her legs.

No matter how much she screamed or begged, they never stopped. They took her again and again, and the more she cried, the more they seemed to enjoy it. Finally, she would see a pair of booted feet next to her head. She would look up, her heart seizing in her chest, and come face to face with the gleeful, sneering look of Alpha James. "Fellas," he’d say, his voice like poison. "Isn’t she just good enough to sample?"

It was the third night, and Trishelle was trapped in the nightmare again. She thrashed in her sleep, tears streaming down her face. She woke up with a silent scream caught in her throat, the phantom feel of hands on her shoulders so real she flinched violently. A man’s hands. She began to scream, but a hand clamped over her mouth, smothering the sound. Panic, pure and blinding, seized her. She grabbed onto the hand and bit down as hard as she could, tasting blood. All she could think about was getting out of the room, but what if his friends were waiting outside?

"Ahh... damn it, Rosebud! Since when did you get so thorny?" a familiar voice hissed in pain.

Trishelle stilled, her entire body freezing at the old nickname. "Sammy? Sammy, is it really you?"

"What the hell... of course it’s me. Wait a sec." There was some shuffling in the dark, then the beam of a phone’s flashlight cut through the gloom, illuminating Sammy’s concerned face. "See? It’s me."

The sight of her best friend was the final crack in the dam. Trishelle couldn’t hold back the tears anymore and began to sob, deep, wracking sobs that shook her entire body.

"Hey, hey, talk to me. Tell me what happened," Sammy pleaded, his voice soft.

Trishelle just shook her head, the tears refusing to stop. "Okay, Rosebud, okay," he murmured, pulling her into a tight hug. "Just let it all out. When you’re ready, you’ll tell me."

Sammy wasn’t sure how long he just held her, letting her cry into his T-shirt. When the sobs finally subsided to hiccups, he gently wiped her nose with the hem of his shirt. After one last sniff, Trishelle began to talk. She told him everything that happened after he left the party—the drink Candice gave her, waking up in the Alpha’s bed, and the horrible, casual way James had described taking her virginity while she was in a drug-induced heat.

As Sammy listened, he could feel a white-hot rage building inside him. He was furious at the she-wolf who had distracted him, at Candice for getting Trishelle drunk, and at the Alpha who had taken advantage of his friend. But mostly, he was livid with himself. It was the first time he had ever ignored his gut instinct, and now his precious Rosebud was paying the price.

"Trishelle, I am so, so sorry that happened to you," he said, his voice thick with self-loathing. "I failed you as a friend. I never should have left you alone. I knew it was your first time at something like that. I let my guard down, thinking you were safe on pack grounds, and after the way everyone treated you that day... If you never forgive me, I will understand. I don’t think I could even forgive myself. I should have known something was wrong the moment the Gamma asked me to leave, without even giving me a chance to say goodbye to you."

Trishelle shook her head, pulling back to look at him. She raised her hands and cupped both of his cheeks. "It’s not your fault, Sammy. Not really. Even if you had stayed, they would have just tried something another time. I don’t hate you, so please don’t hate yourself. Right now, I’m just so glad to have my best friend back." She looked at him, her eyes pleading. "Can you hold me? I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep, but can you at least hold me?"

Sammy nodded, his throat too tight to speak. He lay down on the narrow mattress beside her, and she immediately curled into his side, her head nestling on his shoulder. Despite what she’d said, the sheer exhaustion finally claimed her, and she drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep. Sammy lay there, staring up at the ceiling in the dark, the weight of his friend on his arm. He still felt the sting of guilt, a bitter taste in his mouth. But beneath it, a new resolve hardened like steel. No matter what, he was going to right this wrong. And it started with getting her out of this hellhole.