Alpha Douchebag
1243 Words
Marcus POV
“You can really smell the testosterone in the air, can’t you?” Alexander asked, sniffing the air while making a face.
Ignoring him, Marcus looked around the rocky shore where they all came together, some by car, some by boat. After they had gotten close to the coast, they had been split up into small rowing boats, manned by a Royal guard, who brought them to shore.
Marcus looked up and noticed a castle in the distance. It was magnificent. It looked as if it came straight out of a fairytale book, with it’s large gray stones, all in different shades. Large windows with light gray muntins that divided the glass, covered the wall's surface. While a beautiful garden with all kinds of flowers and shrubs surrounded it.
Marcus was half expecting a unicorn to pop its head out from behind a tree, it was that mystical looking.
“Holy f**k, they must be loaded to be able to afford a place like this,” Benjamin whistled through his teeth.
“Hmm, probably passed down from generations,” Noah commented as they walked further up the hill, clambering over large rocks. The other candidates and their units followed along. Some had brought only one other person while others had even brought omega’s with them.
Marcus could see at least forty candidates, or what he thought were Alphas anyway. Though it wasn’t uncommon for there to be more than one Alpha in a pack. A brother or sister for instance, who was then appointed as Beta. So he couldn’t be too sure.
When they reached the top of the hill, a man in a blue suit, in his late forties, stood waiting for them. He waited for everyone to gather around him and to quiet down. When the last voices died down, he cleared his throat, pushing his glasses further up his nose.
“Good day gentlemen, I am Gregory McKinley, the King’s personal accountant. I will be needing the papers you were required to bring.” The men around him started opening their bags, pulling out the vanilla folder that contained their pack accounts.
When one of the omegas that had been assigned to collect them stopped in front of Marcus, he handed his over with confidence. He wasn’t a billionaire, but his pack did very well for themselves. He watched on curiously as others lacked the confidence he had just exuded, sweating or blushing when it was their turn.
Marcus scoffed inwardly. As if money equaled being a good man, a good husband, mate or father. Hell, it didn’t even equal class. If it did, the Alpha he had seen who’d brought omegas wouldn’t be constantly verbally abusing them.
He had watched on from afar as the Alpha had barked at the poor girls to climb faster, all the while carrying his and his unit’s luggage.
“You are all invited for tea and sandwiches in the parlor while I and my assistants go over your books.” The accountant spoke, gesturing the men to follow behind him.
“Hurry up!” Alpha douchebag sneered at his omega, as the poor girl struggled, trying to lift the heavy bag.
“Let me help you,” The omega looked up with big eyes. Marcus smiled at her, lifting the bag up with one arm while he carried his own over his shoulder.
“T-thank you,” The omega stuttered, not used to the kind treatment.
“You know, we accept all kinds of wolves in my pack,” Marcus began, “Just…think about it. The Blue Mountain pack in Utah. I’ll even cover your travel expenses,” he whispered, causing the omega to blush. He hoped he wasn’t giving her the wrong idea.
The men entered the grand hall. Candle-like lamps lit the hallway, keeping it as authentic as possible, while large paintings of the Barclay family line hung on the walls. The men were ushered along into the foyer, which was similarly impressive. It was very large with seating arrangements all over the place.
Marcus followed behind the omega, still carrying the douche’s bag. His unit went in the opposite direction while looking around the impressive room.
“Your bag,” Marcus stated, harshly throwing it at the unexpected Alpha, nearly knocking him over.
“What the—I thought I asked you to carry it?” He sneered at his omega, “why did you ask another Alpha to carry it?"
“She didn’t.” Marcus stated, “I offered after watching the poor girl struggling to lift the damn thing.”
“It’s none of your concern,” The Alpha scoffed.
“Abusing women is always my concern,” Marcus swiftly replied, “what’s next? You want her to fight in the trials for you?” Marcus challenged. The Alpha next to the pair snorted, giving Marcus a small smile when he looked at him.
“How about I show you what I’m capable of right now?” The Alpha threatened, rolling up his sleeves while his unit stepped forward. Marcus stood his ground, not moving a muscle.
“Men, why don’t we save the battles for the trials?” Yet another Alpha interjected. Marcus responded with a curt nod, turning to leave.
“Your name, Alpha?” the douchebag sneered, spitting out the word Alpha.
“Marcus Harper, Blue Mountain pack,” Marcus replied.
“I am Alpha Julian St. James of the Helena Valley pack,” He replied.
“Ah, St. James,” Marcus’ lips curled into a smirk, “A true testimony to how money can’t buy class,” He turned around and walked away, while Julian’s unit held him back as he cursed at Marcus. But he didn’t care who he had pissed off. He had simply stated the truth. The St. James were an old aristocratic family. They were loaded with wealth, but their values didn’t match that of a wealthy family.
As they waited for the accountant to return, the men chatted while eating cucumber sandwiches and drinking tea.
“Ooh, these are so good,” Alexander moaned, closing his eyes as he stuffed small triangle into his mouth.
“You okay there buddy, or do you need a minute along with the sandwiches?” Noah mocked.
“Haha, very funny,” Alexander grumbled, but before he could reply with an undoubtedly clever response, the doors to the parlor opened.
The accountant and his assistants walked back in, moving to the front of the room.
“Gentlemen, may I have your attention, please? When I call your name, please, step forward.”
The accountant started calling out names until about half of the group was over.
“Alpha Marcus Harper,” the accountant called out. Marcus and his unit stepped forward.
“If I haven’t called out your name, please, gather your belongings and leave the premises. Cars are waiting to take you back. The Royal family thanks you for your loyalty.” The accountant stated, causing murmuring to break out among the Alphas. Marcus could see a few disappointed faces, while others looked relieved to be able to go back home.
“The rest of you may follow me,” the accountant said, leaving the room.
“Well, that’s half the competition gone,” Alexander chuckled, carrying his bag over his shoulder.
Lucky bastards, Marcus thought to himself, before huffing and following behind the rest of the candidates.
- Writer
