1- THE LOCKER ROOM

CHAPTER ONE

-WILHELMINA-

The long-awaited day had arrived, heralding the commencement of the revered Alpha Games. Participating in this event was a dream come true for me. Imagine this – if I win, I’ll be crowned the Alpha of the legendary Gravemaw Hounds! It's been my ultimate dream since I was knee-high to a grasshopper. I've always had my sights set on leading the pack, ever since I can remember. And now, with victory in my sight, that dream feels closer than ever.

Excitement pulsed through my veins as I paced back and forth in the locker room, eagerly anticipating the start of the games. The early morning light filtered in, casting a soft glow on the empty space around me. Just a few early risers were scattered about, like eager bees buzzing before the hive comes to life. But soon enough, the place would be bustling with energy and anticipation as all the other competitors arrive. The calm before the storm, they say. Well, I can’t wait for the storm to hit!

The locker room burst open with a bang as in sauntered my two older brothers, Weldon and Dermon Growler. I couldn't help but grin as I spotted them approaching, so I waved them over eagerly. But my excitement quickly faded when I realized they weren't alone - standing next to them was none other than Boris Gravemaw, the alpha's very own son.

Boris's gaze swept across the room, sizing up his competition with a quick flick of his eyes before they landed on me. The corners of his mouth curled up into a cocky grin, transforming his stoic expression into one that practically oozed arrogance. His dark eyes sparkled mischievously, as if he knew a secret that no one else did.

Boris, in a display of ostentatious nonchalance, sauntered over to me. His black leather boots clanged loudly against the metal floor, each step echoing like an unwanted forewarning. As he got closer, the scent of pine and musk, his signature scent, which was potent enough to make my head spin was getting increasing difficult to ignore. Still playing it cool, I crossed my arms over my chest and tilted my chin up, a rebellious spark flickering in my eyes.

"Well look who we have here," Boris' deep voice resonated through the room as he approached me, his confident smirk never leaving his face.

"If it isn't my determined Wilhelmina Growler," he continued, drawing out each syllable of my name with a mixture of delight and mockery. "Preparing to steal my crown?"

"I'm not stealing anything, Boris," I retorted, throwing his name back at him with the same amount of mockery. "I fully intend on winning it fair and square."

Boris let out a loud and hearty laugh that echoed across the vast room. The rich texture of his voice was akin to the sound of a distant thunderstorm, foreboding yet oddly comforting. He ran a hand through his jet-black hair, pushing it back to further reveal his devilishly handsome face.

"Always the little fighter, aren't you?" His words were spoken in jest.

"But why waste your efforts on a fight that's already won?" Boris continued, his words hanging in the air like an unfinished song. His smirk seemed to grow even wider, devouring his face with smug satisfaction.

"I beg your pardon?" I spat out, my brows furrowing in confusion and annoyance. I bristled at his audacity, my hands itching to slap that irritating grin off his face. But I held back, keeping my demeanor as icy and composed as a winter’s dawn.

"Drop out of the games, Wilhelmina," he said, his voice low and serious this time. The room was suddenly too quiet - as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for the next note in this daunting melody. Boris leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving mine. "Save yourself the trouble. The position of Alpha is as good as mine."

His words swirled around me like a harsh winter wind, but I stood my ground, refusing to be swept away. My heart pounded fiercely in my chest, matching the rhythm of defiance radiating from every pore of my skin.

"Is that so?" My voice sliced through the silence, steady and firm. A beam of morning light pierced through the windows and bathed me in its radiance - a stark contrast to Boris's shadow.

"Of course," Boris declared with a level of confidence that seemed unbreakable. "I know you've always wanted to be Alpha, Wilhelmina. But face it, everyone knows it's my birthright. You can have something even more valuable instead."

"And what would that be, Boris?" I questioned, keeping my voice steady despite the turmoil that Boris's audacity stirred within me.

"To stand by my side," he leaned in closer, his breath tickling my ear. "Become my Luna, be the moon to my sun, share my reign and sit by my side."

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. The audacity of his proposal left me momentarily speechless. All eyes were on me now, waiting for my answer. The air was so thick with anticipation, it felt like the room was holding its collective breath. The declaration itself wasn't that shocking — Boris has made it abundantly clear that he had feelings for me — but the fact that he had been so brazen as to make such an offer in front of everyone, in this highly charged atmosphere, was completely mind-boggling. His smirk crept back onto his face as he registered my stunned silence.

"Well, Wilhelmina," Boris prodded. His voice had dropped to a dangerous whisper that sent shivers down my spine. "What do you say?"

I took a deep breath, steadying myself before I finally turned to meet his gaze. For a moment, I let him see the incredulity etched on my face before I replaced it with a look of steely determination.

"I say, Boris Gravemaw," I began slowly, letting every word drip with the frosty disdain I felt for him. "I would rather eat thistles and nettles for the rest of my days than accept your offer. I am not your moon, or anyone else’s for that matter, and I have no intention of sharing a throne. The position of Alpha might be your birthright, but it hasn’t been won yet. Remember, birthright does not equate to worthiness."

Boris blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback by my unyielding refusal. The smirk on his face turned into a grimace as he searched my face for any sign of jest, but found none. My heart pounded like a war drum in my chest, driving the heat of defiance through my veins. I turned away from him, stepping out of the oppressive shadow he had cast and back into the life-giving sunlight. The room was still silent, but now it was a silence born of shock rather than anticipation. My words hung in the air, a challenge to Boris and anyone else who dared question my resolve.

"Wilhelmina," he tried again, and there was a dangerous edge in his voice that I hadn't heard before. "Don't let pride blind you..."

My laughter cut him off mid-sentence. "Pride? Boris, you mistake confidence for pride. I know exactly what I'm capable of."

The room collectively gasped as their attention shifted back and forth between us like spectators at a tennis match.

"Big words, Wilhelmina." Boris's voice echoed, his eyes narrowing into slits. The amusement was gone from his face, replaced by something darker, something that promised retribution.

"And not empty ones," I retorted, crossing my arms over my chest as I met his glare head-on. "I am not a commodity to be claimed, Boris Gravemaw. Nor a prize to be won. I am Wilhelmina Growler, and I stand on my own strengths and merits."

"Well then," he drawled, straightening to his full height. The room fell silent once again, the tension tangible enough to cut with a knife. "May the best wolf win."

A murmur swept through the room at Boris's declaration — whispers of approval and uncertainty mingling into one discordant symphony. He turned on his heel and left, vanishing through the door. As the door closed behind him, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. The room began to stir as the members of our pack started to digest what had just transpired. Whispers and murmurs danced around me like a pestering swarm of bees, but I paid them no mind.

"That was quite a performance," My eldest brother, Weldon, smirked.

"I wouldn't call it a performance," I replied evenly, turning to face him. His fashionable exterior belied a shrewd mind, ever attuned to the pack's political currents. "I merely stated my intentions."

Weldon's smirk widened into a grin. "Oh, I'm aware. But you turned Boris's little power play into quite the spectacle.

Dermon, my second eldest brother, chuckled, "The pack is going to buzzing like a kicked hornet's nest."

"I suppose they will," I replied, crossing my arms over my chest. "And Boris... he's going to come back with a vengeance."

My brothers exchanged a knowing glance. They knew Boris Gravemaw better than anyone; they had been childhood playmates, companions, and eventually rivals.

"Let him," Dermon countered, his voice low and steady. "You've made your statement, Wilhelmina. He'll think twice before underestimating you again."

Weldon nodded in agreement. "Besides," he added with a sly grin, "I think the pack could use a little excitement. Imagine our little sister being the first female Alpha."

The Gravemaw Hounds, our pack, was known as one of the most powerful and largest werewolf packs in the country. However, like every other pack, it had its strengths and weaknesses. One major downside was the traditional belief that women werewolves should not hold any of the top three positions within the pack.

I smiled at the thought, "First female Alpha,"

"But you know it's not going to be easy," Dermon stated, bringing me back to reality. "The Elders are firm in their beliefs. They're resistant to change, especially one as profound as this."

"And of course, there's Boris," Weldon added, the smirk fading from his face. "He won't back down easily."

I knew they were right. Boris was stubborn and tenacious, qualities that boded well for him as a leader but made him a formidable opponent. But I had my own share of those qualities too.

"I don't expect it to be easy," I replied, looking out of the window at the setting sun. The deepening shadows mirrored the uncertainty that loomed ahead. "But nothing worthwhile ever is."

"You're right, Wilhelmina," Weldon said, his voice filled with more sincerity than I'd heard from him in a long time. "This is going to be a battle - one that you will fight alone. And we," he looked at Dermon and then back at me, "aren't gonna go easy on you just because you are our little sister."

I turned back to face them with a grin. "I wouldn't expect anything less," I said. "And besides, who said I needed you to go easy on me?"

Weldon chuckled and Dermon shook his head in amusement. "Stubborn as always, our little sister."

"Stubborn, but determined," I affirmed, meeting their gaze unflinchingly.

We stood there for a long moment, the three of us. A formidable trio, bound by blood and shared history, but soon to be opponents in a battle for leadership that was sure to test our bonds.