All Chapters of Alpha, Not Luna: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Meg’s POV “What do you want- omega?” Chris spits out at me, his mouth twisting in a snarl. Chris is a gamma, and his power gets to his fathead sometimes. No, he isn’t overweight, he’s just stupid. Gammas are in line for beta-ship, so they hold power in their aura. Alpha, beta, gamma, delta, epsilon, zeta, and then omega, in that order. A luna rules by the alpha’s side. The alpha holds the highest rank of all, and nobody questions his leadership. In some packs, some individuals attempt to take on leadership roles, and a fight to the death ensues. Most of the time, the alpha wins and either kills the attempted mutineer or expels him from the pack, as the act of defiance can never be forgiven. Exile is better than death. You will then be a rogue- a wolf without a pack. Defenceless as your family has the choice of leaving the pack with you and being out of the protection of their pack and alpha, or they can choose to stay within the pack and sever ties with you. Beta is the next

Meanwhile... The wizard had done his homework. He’d seen the weak pack members dying throughout the years of exile. Their God or Goddess- whatever- didn’t seem to care much for them. They mostly descended into madness because their former alpha- yes, Varian here is not an alpha in any sense at all. He’d lost his power when he was thrown out of his pack. Varian and maybe hundreds of his followers were allowed to flee safely. Malakar supposed they remained loyal to him, which is why they looked to Varian still as their leader. But the bond that once united them was shattered. Usually, they become feral and attack anything in sight- even their families. Starvation gnaws at their sanity, which would aid in driving them to do desperate self-destructive acts. Lacking the alpha’s stabilizing influence is what spirals them into turmoil and their sense of purpose. The pack would disintegrate into a frenzied chaotic mass, tearing itself apart from within until nothing remains but desolation.

Alpha Soren’s POV- finally eh... Logan was seething inside me, and even though I had shut him off, he was so strong that I could still feel his edging. Cursing silently that I wish I could do it permanently. I could have felt his maniac trembling as if he was about to go over the edge and if he did, that then all shit’s gonna break loose. My wolf had nearly zero chill, but it’s normal for my status as alpha. Before I was alpha, I did worry that he was too playful. My heart is burdened. I insulted my mate and sent her away quickly because I could not hold Logan back for much longer. But I am fuming myself and a little over an hour later, when he calls me a festering putrid pile of cow dung, I sent for Beth who was already downstairs. While we waited for her arrival, I gave him a lesson on the importance of cows and their waste to which he responded with more hateful and spiteful words. Both of us talking over each other, shouting inside my head, so loudly, that I gave myself a head

Alpha SorenLogan whines inside my head and I gritted my teeth, ignoring him. Moving my hand faster over my stiffness, I frown deeply a stifled moan through my clenched teeth as I replay what she feels like inside my mind. Her softness. Her folds- the little whimpers she makes. The warm water from the shower sprinkles over me and I wonder what taking Meg in here would feel like. With her face flattened against the tiled wall, one of her hands stretching out behind her, to my back, her long nails- she doesn’t have long nails, okay, her regular short nails- geez her hands then on my wet skin, a sign of encouragement as I pounded into her from behind. Her soft wet buttocks...I groan. My forehead presses against the wet tiles as my hand movements quicken. Ah- yes. Sweet release. I collapsed against the wet tiles and spilt my juices out, tears flowing down my eyes. Logan turns his head, shaking it. He thinks he is too full of class to stoop so low as to please

Meg Most of my life- I dare say, I have been unhappy. I felt sort of numb and misplaced somewhat until Jax pulled me out of the frigid, cold waters, of the Mount White Stone River. The first thought that came to me was the little one in my tummy. Womb- I'd learnt this word when I joined the maternal clinical afterwards. I’d also learnt that you didn’t check babies by months while you carried them but by weeks. Forty weeks is each approximate calculation for the due date- which could go either way. But we aren’t talking about my pre-natal time, are we? The doctors told me that jumping into the water was nothing to fret over because I survived. His joke did not make me laugh as he had intended. Then he went on to adjust his glasses, telling me that a scarily large number of mothers go through a depression stage; either pre- or post-pregnancy when I had made a scene in the emergency ward about checking to see if my baby was still alive. He hadn’t known what I mean. I’d meant my trans