The Broken Alpha

ti

ght – if a little overdone for his tast

to tree and around the veranda which trailed around the outskirts of the house itself. He chewed on the inside

ch of glittering lanterns, the vials clicking against the glowing light bulbs. He stretche

ilder for the latest group of young wolves that had recently come of age, and

those who followed him. A leader was weak without a loyal pack, and his family had held Bl

ounds, aching to see a white wolf sprinting through the woods towards him. He’d only ca

s had scorned him, and he’d forced a mask of cold indifference to take the place of the pathetic longing that had threatened to overwhelm him. He’d tol

t fawn over him like the others, but… he’d prefer it if she did. He couldn’t deny that he liked the attention, that he enjoyed all th

ounds in soft warmth, dappling through the boughs of light-strung trees and flooding

be no drawn-out meetings, no stern words between family and foe. There would only be c

The Blood Moon pack ha

warm hand clapped h

. His eyes softened as they met his mother’s gaze, her green eyes

sturing to the surrounding reve

face. “I feel the Worm Moon is often overlook

rominent by the sweep of the long, dark hair tied back at the nape of his wide neck. “It falls so close to Ost

earned all this last night.

yebrow at him. “Was th

rugged. “I

or the pack,” his mother chided gentl

es had returned home with energy to spare, despite his cold, haughty front he had been glad to return with such a small loss of life

make his parents proud, to make his ancestors proud, and to keep his pack not just ali

head. “The birds are a work of a

sighed, sweeping her golden hair behind her s

zel that glittered gold in the sunlight – tight and creas

of living art is one thing, but understanding its limits, and how far she will use it in our name is quite another.” He examined

out of his parents’ conversation, idly watching the members of their pack – his pack

me sort of action,” Nearyn sai

mm

ss every battle? I understand that things have been hard for her,

scarred hand across the view, gesturing towards children giggling in groups, mated pair

affords us, Al,” she whispered. “A show of str

, catching her elbow and givin

he small crowd gathering around the unlit bonfire

ee. And though he could remember being a child himself, walking around the grounds in wonderment and star

ed beneath the wide bough of a tree. Their faces were flecked in sunlight, a

– he liked his words to come from the heart, he said, though it was just something else he didn’t see the point in, not when he gave similar spe

e of her shoulders, her long hair pulled back behind them in a plait that made the sharp lines of her jaw and cheekbon

the side of the bonfire. A flickering torch had been lit, ready for him to thrust into the wood after he’d praised t

. He couldn’t allow himself to dwell on the ache he felt whenever he was near her, or thought of her.

eches were, he knew that they meant a lot to the pack. If they made the pack happy,

m, but his broad shoulders were relaxed as he grinned around at the members of his pack. He made sure to bare his teeth a

hazy sunlight. He was careful not to shout – that would look too eager, too desperate. “I am proud of your hard work,

words. He half expected her to spit into the bonfire and leave, but she was stood beside her father, who had put a steadying hand on her wrist.

f time even thinking about her. He was certain that she would request his permission to leave the Blood Moon pack on her eighteenth birthday, and he knew that he should le

rior, well enough that he hardly heard the words of his speech as he said them. He hardly felt the flame licking at his knuckl

or the Blood Moon pa