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3: Death of an Alpha
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2024-10-29 19:42:56One week later
*Jonas*
I am out running with a couple of other guys when I pick up a cry for help over the pack's mind link. And instantly know it is my father. ‘Rogues …. Anyone … help.’
‘This way,’ Cana instantly tells the other wolves, and we turn, falling into formations as we speed through the forest towards the river.
My heart is pumping, and cold flashes are running down our spine. As I have already pointed out, my father is not really my favorite person, but I wish no harm upon him, and I know how dangerous these rogues are. We need to get there fast.
All I get from my father are incomprehensible words, jumbled emotions, and an overwhelming surprise I am not really understanding. Then silence.
‘Come on, Cana, faster,’ I urge my wolf on. Neither of us is among the biggest, but we are pretty fast.
When we reach the river, I first see nothing, but then I see a sizable huddled form disappear, and we spot my father on the river bank. I run as fast as I can, changing almost in a fluent motion into my human form and kneeling by his side.
The empty eyes and torn throat tells me there is nothing to be done, but I still shake him. “Dad … wake up …DAD!”
“I am sorry, Jonas,” I feel a hand on my shoulder. It is Kemen. “He is gone; there is nothing to be done.”
I swallow. “I know …. But why?”
Something … or more like someone comes crashing through the bushes, and out steps, the packs Beta Connor, looking ruffled and out of breath. “I saw him run, the damn rogue they call their King; I tried to catch him, but … they are like ghosts.”
“Why didn’t you help him ? Why didn’t you help your Alpha,” I get up, staring at him.
“I was too late, just like you,” He shakes his head. “I came from the other side at the same time as you; I realized I could do nothing and tried to catch the rogue.”
I swallow again. “I know the rogues are … unpredictable, but why would he kill dad?”
“Who knows … Maybe he has somehow heard the packs want to get rid of the rogues; they are becoming a problem,” The Beta shrugs.
Straightening my back I look around. “We need to get him back to the pack house, and then we need to report this to the other packs. These rogues need to be handled.”
While this is not something I enjoy handling. Getting my father back, comforting my mom and sister, delegating what needs to be done, and calling the other pack to make plans for a new meeting regarding the rogues. While handling it something kinda grows inside me, a resolve, a sense of responsibility, and people automatically start calling me Alpha Jonas.
To be honest, I had expected people, at least some of the seasoned fighters and other high-level members of the pack, to question whether I was ready to lead them. But no one does. I do get some looks now and again, but it is like no one dares to be the first to say something.
And I do my best to rise to my duty and be a good and fair leader. For now I don't make any changes in the pack structure. Firstly I think we all need to get used to my father not being here, and as he died relatively young, no one is really near retirement age, not even for werewolves.
The alphas and other high ranking members of the other packs attend the funeral, and while some do look at me a little funny when I am introduced as the new Alpha, at least they all treat me with respect face to face.
A meeting regarding the rogues is scheduled for next week. We have to do something about these savages.
*Typhon*
I am pacing the floor in the big cave we use as a kinda common room, and where a couple of the others have found it funny to build me a throne, telling me a King needs a throne.
“What is it, Cerberus ?” My best warrior Fire Moon asks. “You look agitated.”
Cerberus is actually my wolf, but most of the pack calls me that most of the time.
“Oh do I ?” I turn, raising an eyebrow at her. “The packs are planning to wipe us out over some dead Alpha; I should, of course, be totally relaxed.”
“Of course not, but what can they do ? Do you really think they dare attack us ?” She bites her lip, looking at me.
I throw out my hands. “If they work together, you think we stand a chance? We are not that many after all.”
“So … what are we gonna do ?” She asks. “Knowing you we are not gonna just sit here and wait for them to come for us”.
“And you know me …”. I mumble, feeling my wolf chuckling. “We could always run … find a new place to live…”
Fire moon rolls her eyes. “You just admitted that I know you, so I also know you would never run.”
I laugh and walk over to throw myself on the throne, leaning back nonchalantly and throwing one leg over the armrest. “You are right, of course, but how do we protect ourselves ?”
“Hmm, yeah,” She looks thoughtful for a moment. “Well what if we had something of theirs ? Something they do not want to risk getting hurt ?”
I pull down my leg and lean forward, looking at her. “I'm listening.”
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*Jonas* I take them to a side door that is partially concealed by a tall English maple. Then I crouch down and put my finger to my lips, indicating that they should remain still. They both look at me with puzzlement and interest as I heave upward, slamming my shoulder into the door. They hear a latch come undone, and I swing the door open. ‘Well done,’ Cana says approvingly. ‘That will show them we are usable here.’ “Won't the grounds keeper have heard that?" Fire moon asks, looking around nervously. I shake my head. “His cottage is too far away, and as I said, he is quite deaf. I have sneaked past his cottage many times. No one has ever caught on … It was only while he went out he was a danger”. "You might have told us this before,” Typhon says. “You'd never have gotten it right. You have to hit the door just so. It took me weeks to learn,” I explain. “The pack door of the main house has the same latch, that is how I know how to work it, from sneaking back in.” Cana huffs. ‘
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*Jonas* One moment I am crawling on all fours, and the next I am as flat as a crepe, with a large, heavy, and oddly warm weight on my back. That, however, isn't nearly so disconcerting as the cold knife pressed up against my ribs. “Don't move,” A voice growls in my ear. A familiar voice. “Typhon?” I croak. ‘Damn he is heavy,’ Cana mumbles. “Jonas?” Then he utters a word so foul I have never heard of it before, and I thought I had heard them all from my friends in my own pack. “The very one,” I reply with a gulp, “And I really couldn't move, anyway. You're rather heavy.” My wolf half purr. ‘Is it bad that I rather like the feel of him? It is like ….’ ‘Shut it,’ I cut him off, ‘I do not like it.’ He rolls off me and pierces me with a stare that is one part disbelief and minty-nine parts unadulterated fury. I find myself wishing it was the other way around. Typhon Bloodclaw is definitely not a man to cross. "I am going to kill you,” He hisses. I gulp, “Don't you want to lect
