Book 1 of Alpha Wolf: Mate Mine

Renato

Trucio

Escalus

Plino

Rodrigo

Goffredo

Those were the names of the Black Devil’s warriors who were about to be wiped out from the world we know.

Those were the names that Rolando was humming in his head as a sly smile decorated his pretty face. Those were the names of people who were about to become worms’ food.

“Renato, Trucio, Escalatus-” Gamma recited as he headed for the edge of Full Moon. He ran in his huge orange wolf. Someone could easily have mistaken him for the Fox Alpha. But it wasn’t. No.

He was a wolf down to the root of his DNA.

Those guards that Alpha Mirko had posted around Full Moon were lucky ... because if Mirko, or worse Crucifero, had taken care of them, it would have been far worse.

Gamma Rolando glided through the trees like an orange devil ... like a silent shadow with the colors of the setting sun. The mind lost in the labyrinths of the past ... in memories he had buried in the dusty recesses of the mind ...

When he approached the area where the scent of the Black Devil’s flesh was emanated, the warriors were already there, in a circle. As if they already knew. Without halting, without faltering, Gamma returned to his human form. And he smiled like the bringer of misfortune. Like the cunning fox.

“You know what to do, gentlemen,” his deep, raspy voice announced.

As soon as those words were spoken, the warriors all shifted into their beasts, within minutes ... and began pounding each other. A dusty cloud of snarls, tearing fangs, broken fur, whines was all that could be heard and seen.

After an indefinite time, three of them remained standing, encircling, showing their fangs as a warning and never letting their guard down. Those were the most dangerous and vicious, the ones chosen by Mirko himself. Valiant and experienced warriors.

Despite that, they had failed to protect their pack itself ... if the Luna died, the Alpha would go berserk, and the pack would fall into anarchy. So, they should all be exterminated.

Removed. Erased.

Rolando stared at them, naked, with his arms crossed over his chest and his orange eyes shining, competing with the sunlight itself.

Cracking his knuckles, flexing his neck from side to side, he took a step forward. Their heads all snapped at him with a mixture of fear and determination to survive, to cling to life until the very last breath. Their position became ultra defensive and aggressive.

Rolando chuckled loudly, almost like a mad schizophrenic. He loved when they tried to fight. It meant more fun.

‘Time to play, little puppets.’

And he shifted into his massive wolf.

A heartbeat later, without wasting any more time, without letting them live longer than necessary, the wolf struck with a roar that was heard until Full Moon’s pack house.

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!!TRIGGER WARNING!!

ABUSE, RAPE & SOME MATURE CONTENT ARE BELOW. SKIP THIS PART IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THE TOPIC AND MOVE TO ‘END OF TRIGGER PART’.

The child felt a large paw strike his back and knock him to the ground just on the edge of the clearing. The smell of damp forest floor decay crept into his sensitive nostrils as he hit the ground and dust billowed up around his head. He did not care about the pain, or the werewolf that stood with its left paw in the center of his aching back.

It was holding him there, on the dirt floor, forcing him to watch the scene before him.

The sound of skin slapping against skin resonated all around. It was the only noise the child could hear... could focus on. The rest, screams, roars, laughter, wolves masturbating, was muffled sounds, like when you were underwater.

There was a woman lying on the ground, her face turned towards the child who had the same orange eyes as her. She had run out of tears for a long time. Tears that had streaked down her face full of dried blood. The hair, normally a lustrous auburn color, was tangled and acted as a hold ... Acceptance and resignation was what you noticed in that face, once always smiling.

Behind her, Black Devil Beta was growling wildly, with the mouth parted and the eyes wild. He had her chest pinned to the ground only allowing her the ability to move an inch.

At first, the woman had let out desperate cries as she tried to raise herself from the ground and away from the soulless Beta a few times. It did not work and the female got more beaten up.

The kid had watched the forceful tug at the back of her gown and heard it ripping away from her shaking body. It had been a gift from her mate, the father of the kid.

The kid had watched how her eyes widened and fear contorted her delicate features. How panic grew to pure terror.

The kid had watched his sweet mother shake her head from side to side as if to deny the nightmare she was experiencing. Dust marked the tracks of her tears, which were long gone.

Black Devil’s Beta was hammering hard into her flesh, with such speed and strength that everyone was wondering how he had not broken her in half. After a time that seemed endless, he finished the act. Without even leaving her hole, the Beta cut off her head with a cutlass from which he never separated.

As if nothing, he went out of her, wiped the innocent blood-soaked cutlass with what was left of her clothes and threw her to the ground, like a rag doll.

The boy wasted no tears on his beloved mother. Impotence and despair had already been buried for some time.

The only thing consumed him, burned him alive, was sweet, beautiful revenge....

END OF TRIGGER PART

Rolando shook his head, to chase those images away, but not because he was running away from his past.

No.

For a long time, he had accepted the pain and the disgust of having witnessed the abuse of his own mother.

An evil smirk rose to his lips. There was a side that not even his mate knew. A madness and a need to tear apart the flesh that was buried deep in his soul.

Rolando enjoyed cutting heads since the days of Alpha Tiberius and his Beta, the rapist.

Nobody knew.

Nobody had to know. Not even his brothers in life, Mirko and Crucifero.

Those were his devils. And Rolando did not need to share them. Those demons belonged only to him and to no one else. And he would take them with him to the grave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Marco stepped out of the house, hurrying to the hospital as Crucifero had “ordered” him in a way that will cost him later, the sun had already risen from behind the misty mountains. Their nest, or rather the house that Crucifero had built in secret to begin their life together, was secluded and isolated from the rest. Guaranty of privacy and full immersion into the surrounding Black Devil’s angry forest.

The Beta was about to go into the woods, to take the shortcut that would take him straight to the hospital, when he caught something strange. A group of crows and vultures were circling in the air a few yards away. Their rapacious and hungry eyes focused on something right below them. As an omen of impending doom.

Frowning over his blue eyes, Marco rushed outside.

He had overslept in their fantastic new bed that morning, as usual. Cruciferoo was spoiling him to such an extent that it bordered on ridicule. First of all, he never woke him up at 5 in the morning, which was the time when Crucifero trained the warriors. His strategy was to tire him out until he almost passed out...using the best activity you could do with your mate.

Marco would sleep, blown up by his own mate, and skip his Beta duties. And only because of his ultra-protective mate, which had basically locked him in a crystal box.

On top of that, Crucifero would leave him so much food for breakfast that it was enough to feed an army of wolves. And not just that! In the evening, after a full day at work, Crucifero prepared dinner and never allow him to cook. Never!

Sure, Marco did not necessarily complain but still, he was not a sugar doll either.

After confronting and cornering him several times, Crucifero admitted that he wanted him to work alongside him... “But not yet,” he said, “Get used to the pack. Take it easy.”

In the end, Marco’s days were spent in bed (engaged in various activities), eating, going to school, adapting to the news of the pack and spending time with his needy companion.

That morning, Crucifero had left earlier than expected.

And his strange request to head for the hospital had almost scared him if it weren’t for the reassurance of his own mate, who had assured that everything was fine. But he had said nothing more...and Marco was left with a mix of curiosity and concern.

To get to the hospital, he had to pass by the pack house.

As he ran to his destination, several heads bowed in respect, others averted their eyes in fear. Marco knew it was the mark on his neck giving off silent warnings. It was like having a black cloud hovering above the head, following you everywhere, a cloud that would strike anyone. It screamed ′Stay away from the mate of the Killing Machine, the one who has a red wolf, more red than your own blood, with scarlet eyes that burn more than fire itself, if you wish to see your next dawn.′

Without slowing the pace, Marco passed in front of the impressive pack house, glancing at it quickly ... and then suddenly stopped and jerked his head back, almost dislocating his neck.

He almost fainted at the disturbing sight in front of him.

There were six men. Or what was left of....

Severed heads impaled on spikes. With wide eyes and open mouths as if they continued to scream even after death.

The surgical precision with which they had been cut was disconcerting, almost as if the ‘impaler’ had used a ruler.

‘Oh my God, where the hell am I?!’

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AN/ Which one would you prefer as a mate? Mirko, Crucifero or Rolando?!

Thanks a lot for reading and reviewing!! It means a lot!

AN2/ For those who have asked me about my other stories, how to read this book quicker and wanted to know about my Patreon’s profile:

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