Feral Wolf

An Alpha’s strength was not measured in his or her physical strength. It was measured in how well he or she could protect his or her pack and placing their life before his or hers. An Alpha’s rule was what made them a legend amongst other wolves.

Brontes and I ate up in his room. I looked at him silently as he mowed down on his food like it was the last meal he would ever had. A frown upon my face—not from disgust but from rage that he could be this hungry.

“When did you last eat?” I asked.

He looked up at me before returning back to his meal, “Not since two nights ago.”

I didn’t know how much I could handle. My grip on my plate was so hard it cracked under the pressure. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes and replayed the image of slitting the leader’s throat in my mind.

The thought of Brontes being treated like a dog, having him sleep on the floor instead of a bed, and the thought of starving him had me wondering what else they did to him. I placed the broken dish on the tray and stood up. I needed to breathe. I needed to get away. I turned to look at him.

“I need to run. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Do you think you wait here for me?” I asked breathing a little heavy as I was fighting my wolf who was scratching on my skin.

“I’ll be fine.” He nodded as he looked at me but I didn’t trust him enough. I pack-linked my father that I was leaving my room and he said he would come and guard the door while I was gone.

I rushed to the door with one last glance at my mate I spun on my heels and left. A loud growl had escaped my throat as I ran down the stairs. I was an animal. I couldn’t handle my own wolf. Sometimes I felt just as crazy as a feral rogue.

The minute I reached the edge of my territory I shifted in mid-air, landing on my paws. I stretched out my claws as I kicked off from the ground and broke out in a run into the forest. I didn’t know where I was going until I arrived at the scene where my pack warriors had demolished the hunters camp.

I sniffed around the ground and up into the air before perking up my ears to become alert of my surroundings. When I heard a faint crunch of leaves, a growl left my throat, vibrating in my chest. My head whipped towards that direction.

When nothing came up as a threat to me, I took another glance around until I trudged towards the cave that Brontes was held captive in. When I got to the entrance I heard faint whimpering. My body stiffened at the sound. I listened to see if there was anything more that could indicate what was in there.

The sound of a scuffle and a pup’s cry coming from the cave made the decision for me. I started into the cave and saw that a large gray wolf was biting into a child wolf who has not yet shifted. A growl escaped my lips and the large wolf’s eyes whipped towards me, his red eyes looking at me menacingly.

He charged towards me in attempt to eliminate the threat to him. I met him head on as my paw raised up in the air to push him back. He was a lot stronger than I imagined. It took a while for me to push him back far enough for my canines to snap onto his neck, hard. He whimpered and tried to bite my neck. I used my paw to push him down, bringing on more pain.

The pup cried and crawled to his feet, “Please don’t kill him. He’s my father.”

It was the first mistake I made. The large wolf took the opportunity when I let my guard down, and twisted his head to snap at my jaw. The puncture made me cry out. I tried to push him off but he held on tight. I used my hind legs to kick his stomach. His canines were digging deeper. I kicked harder this time and snapped my jaw. My hind legs must’ve snagged something on him because he immediately let off from my neck enough for me to kick him off again. When we broke apart he and I circled each other, looking for a way in for a kill.

“Please!” The pup cried. “He’s my father! You can’t kill him!”

My heart went out to the pup. If this sorry of an excuse was his father, he deserved to die. No pup deserved this kind of torture or abuse from a parent. A parent who was suppose to guide their pup to become a werewolf who can survive on their own. The anger inside of me boiling and I let out a snappy snarl.

The large wolf didn’t appreciate my snarl because he launched himself at me a second time. This time, I ducked under him and bit his tail hard. He cried out and turned around to swipe his paw at my face. The sharp pain I felt told me he had been successful. I saw that his coat was coated in his own blood. He was quickly losing from my bite from earlier. He was also huffing badly because he was out of shape and because I had been mostly playing on the defensive side.

The pup ran towards us and I caught him from the corner of my eyes. I turned slightly to look at him and to bark for him to stay where he was when I saw his father took the sly opportunity to aim for my neck.

It all happened so quickly. I was able to semi-dodge him but his body was half on top of me in a horizontal way. I could still use this as my advantage. I could still win but my thoughts were taken away when I saw Brontes’ wolf come charging up and then his head pushed the large gray wolf off from me. A snarl escaping Brontes’ wolf’s lips as he stood over me.

For a moment, I was enthralled by the sight of him over me before I pushed him off from me. He rubbed his face to mine before licking my wound and then turning back to the large wolf where he growled.

The pup cried and ran towards his father where his father carelessly kicked him with the hind leg. The pup cried even harder and clutched at his side. A snarl escaped my lips and I went in for the kill. Enough play. He didn’t deserve to live. He launched himself at me and I did the same. We were raised up in the air with our paws trying to get each other’s throat until I finally kicked off my hind legs and pushed his body down to the side, where I grabbed on to his throat and bit hard onto his neck, his vein pulsing under me. I clamped my canine and ripped his throat. Not a noise escaped his lips. I shifted then onto my hands and knees as I spit out the nasty bloody taste from my mouth. I looked up to see Brontes looking at me with concerns eyes. He was still in his wolf form.

“I’m okay.” I managed to squeeze out. “Check the pup.”

I heard him walking to the pup who was crying until I managed to stand up and walked over. I sat on my knees as I stared at the pup. He was no more than seven years old. I reached out to touch him but he cried and clung onto Brontes’ leg. My gaze flew up to Brontes.

“Take him back to the territory. I will follow.”

Brontes looked hesitant in letting me go but eventually nodded.