Revenge Of An Alpha: Alpha Aaron And His Hateful Mate

I smelled her before I saw her. The smell was too overpowering for me. It was probably because I have used my werewolf strengths in over ten years. I didn’t even activate them right now, it just happened on its own. It was probably the wolf part of me that sensed his mate around. Now here is a thing about me: I don’t care for mates. I don’t believe in a Goddess. I don’t believe in a werewolf community living in the shadows of God they can’t even see. I don’t believe in old customs and traditions. I don’t believe that some unseeable force chose a soulmate for me. That’s all bullshit. This is why I left. This is why I cut ties with the Pack I was born into. I was supposed to be the next Alpha in line. I didn’t care to be one. For me, being the alpha family of the community was nothing more than a sign of dictatorship. Why should the entire pack bow in front of us? Why consider us kings and queens? What a load of outdated bullshit. I never believed in any of those customs and that’s why

Aaron “So, you heard the news, huh?” Alex spoke on the phone and heaved a sigh, “Yes, there was an attempt, but like always, we blocked them.” He replied to my question. I called my mother first, being a Luna of the Pack. She is always busy, so I reached my second best source, my youngest brother, Alex. I asked him if everything was okay because I heard the news of a disturbance in the northern region of the country. I didn’t reply to him. There was an itch in me that would only be satisfied if I knew how they blocked the attack and who were the attackers, but I didn’t want to know the details. It would only provoke my suppressed wolf. I don’t want to visit my wolf side. I know my human side was exposed to my wolf years ago, but in the last ten years, I have mastered controlling it and keeping it at bay. I have never met my wolf before. I don’t even know how it looks, and even when its absence is a painful reminder that it exists. I am worried that if one day my wolf ever appeared,

Brielle “You can’t run away from me. Even if you want to, you can’t. There is no way out for you.” I heard the same faceless voice again. It has been months since I have been dreaming about this voice. I don’t know who it belongs to. I am unable to put a face to the gravitating and deep voice. Each time I dream of this voice, it does something to me. I feel helpless with this voice. My body automatically surrenders to it. I wonder if the Goddess sent it from the beyond to punish me. To stop me. It is not only the voice that makes my head foggy but the touch as well. Yes, this dream man of mine didn’t only speak to me, he touched me too, and the things that mere touch did to me. I can’t see him touching me, but I feel it. I feel it to my very core. I feel his feathery touch on my sink. It burns and soothes it at the same time. When he touches me, everything stands still for me. I feel like I am floating. I feel okay. I feel like nothing is wrong with me or nothing wrong could happen

“Aaron?” That voice. That same soft voice was calling my name. I couldn’t see her. It was pitch black where I was. Her voice was echoing. It was coming from somewhere far away. My stomach twitched when it went farther away. “Aaron, help me.” The voice didn’t beg. She didn’t cry or scream. It was a soft plea. The vulnerability in her voice made me want to reach out to her. My palms started to itch to reach out to hold her – to make sure she was okay. I never felt like this before. How can I feel like this to a faceless entity that I am not even sure is real?“Aaron?” The voice started to get deeper.“Aaron?” And deeper…“Aaron??” Until it changed into Kendrick’s voice. “Aaron, can you hear me? Hey, what happened? Aaron?”I gasped as I felt like I was gushing out of the pitch-dark hollow hole, and back into the world. I opened my eyes and widened them. Kendrick was kneeling beside me, with other acquainted faces standing around, looking down at me with deep concern on their faces. For a

I looked down at my hands. Steady as a rock. They don’t seem like they just brutally killed dozens of innocent men and women, except for a hint of blood around my nails. It’s funny how empty I feel knowing we just won. We won against the brutes of werewolves. We won against my mother’s murderers. It just doesn’t feel the way I thought it would feel, probably because we crossed a line. We involved innocents in this. We slayed the one that didn’t have anything to do with my mother’s murder. There was a wave of celebration around me. We were far from the borders of the Sage Pack, somewhere in the woods. Some of our people were getting medical attention, while the others lit a bonfire and were now drinking, singing, and dancing around it. They called for the celebrations to go on all of the remaining nights. I didn’t feel like it. I was drained from using my powers tonight. Also, this heavy feeling dangling from my chest was not letting me feel happy about our victory. I felt a pat on m