The Alpha's Possession: The Choice

Death Wish

CHARLES’S POV

Randolph arrives at the park in no time at all. The closer we get; It seems his excitement dwindles.

Randolph slows down as we approach the iron gate to the park. He stops and sniffs the air for any signs of danger. “Something isn’t right, Charles,” Randolph says, then sniffs the ground.

“What do you smell?”

“The scent is new. The Salaquins have definitely been here tonight.” He sniffs the gate. “But there is someone else… a human… a woman.” Randolph becomes quiet for a brief moment before continuing, “Charles, we have to help her!”

There was an urgency in his voice. Randolph had gone from excited, to concerned, and now protective in a matter of seconds. “What has gotten into you? She is probably just some homeless stray, and if the Salaquins are here, she is probably dead anyway.”

“Charles!” Randolph snaps.

“You are seriously being a pain in the ass. I thought we were here to find the Salaquins, not some chic playing damsel in distress.”

“You will get your kill, but I am saving the woman. She is still alive. I can smell it.” Randolph says with determination.

“Fine. Whatever. But if you get us killed over this homeless chic; I am coming to haunt your ass! Do you hear me?” I warn.

“Yeah. Yeah. I hear you. Let’s go.”

Through the park, we silently walk, making sure not to step on any dry leaves or broken tree branches. Randolph keeps his nose high in the air, sniffing anything that would cause us harm.

The smell of the rusted chains on the broken swing set, the squirrel eating on a squeaky carousel; nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but as an alpha, our senses are more enhanced than the average werewolf. We can detect what most cannot.

We were halfway across the park when our nose became alert to the distinct smell of the Salaquins. Foul body odors and too much testosterone filled the air. I knew they were ready to have their way with the homeless chic.

The sound of water, crickets, and two frogs near a broken tree trunk grabs our attention. Careful not to make any noise, we approach the log, but something stops us dead in our tracks. My feet could not move. Randolph could barely breathe. His lips, our lips, parted as we smelled it. It was the scent.

“Do you smell that, Charles?”

“Yes. I. Do.”

Something deep within our soul, something wanton yet lascivious, consumes every fiber in our being. We close our eyes taking it in as if it is our very first breath. Just as fast, we snap out of the bliss and growl one word - one word that I never wanted to say, because that one f*****g word, I knew would drive me insane. One word that would push me over the edge to kill anything without moral thoughts. One. f*****g. Word.

“Mate!”

PEARL’S POV

Before I can respond, the Salaquin throws me against his chest. His hot breath trickles down my neck, and his hard erection pushes into my stomach. All I can do is look away and watch as each werewolf encircles me, laughing and moaning in delight as they grab their members and smile at the deed they are about to do.

“Pearl, as you can see, our pack, is… let’s just say… selective.” The Salaquin pauses and moans in my ear before continuing, “Very selective. We have been looking for a Luna to live among our pack to...serve us, but we have not been happy with our catch.”

His twin walks behind me and snickers. A straightforward word comes from his foul breath. “Yet.” Both twins snicker at their demented joke.

The last three members step closer and closer until I can feel their hot breath encircling me. A single salty tear trickles down my cheek, and the bitterness runs across my lips. I bite down on my bottom lip, trying to hold back my need to cry. The twin with the missing eye brushes his grungy fingers through the back of my hair and smells me like I am a tempting dessert. My legs feel like they are about to buckle beneath me, yet somehow, I find it within to remain strong enough not to scream or blackout.

“My, my.” The twin nods to his pack. “She is a strong one, isn’t she?”

They each agree with him. It doesn’t take much to realize he must be the leader or at the least someone famous in the pack.

“Not one single beg for mercy?” He asks curiously. “And no bargaining or pleading. Hmm, how… interesting.” The Salaquin licks his dry lips while scrutinizing me from head to toe.

“You think she is the one, Si’reme?” His twin asks while roughly grabbing my hair from behind. “You think she will be the one to serve us well?” In one yank, he pulls my head back, just enough for me to stare into his crimson-red eye. Every hair on my head feels like he is about to rip them out, yet I remain silent.

“Winner, winner, chicken dinner.” The leader snickers, “Isn’t that right, Weasley?”

His pack member doesn’t answer. The Salaquin waits several more seconds to hear a response but still nothing. He calls out behind his shoulder to another member, “Jackson? Wyatt?” Still nothing.

The crickets and frogs stop singing; even the brisk wind stops blowing. The twin withdraws his hand and looks up at his brother. His brother is fixated towards the dark, overgrown brush by the trees. Si’reme follows his brother’s glowing eyes and glares in the same direction.

“Where are they, Si’reme?” The twin with the missing eye asks.

“Probably f*****g dead, Raj.” The twin, Si’reme, growls between his clamped teeth.

“That is impossible. We would have heard the attack! They were right behind us, Raj!” Si’reme Si’reme hisses back.

“Not if it is who I think it is,” Si’reme says while nodding towards the trees.

“f**k. You’re right.”

Raj’ grabs me by the wrist and pulls me close. “Don’t think you’re going anywhere. We may need bait to keep our asses alive.”

“Why run? I’m dead either way.”

I hack a wad of spit in Raj’s face, blindsiding his only good eye and stomp his big toe. He moans in pain and wipes his face off. Si’reme rolls his eyes. “You fool, must I do everything?”

In three long strides, Si’reme is past his brother and has his hands wrapped around my neck. With all my might. I kick as hard as I can while gasping for air.

“Still nothing to say to me?” He laughs and lifts me in the air. “Or, should I be jealous that my brother got you to speak?”

I cough, again and again, feeling the urge to stop struggling and let the darkness consume me.

A deep, spine curling growl rumbles from being the trees, causing the ground to shake beneath our feet. Si’reme stops holding me and opens his hands, allowing me to drop to the ground. My wrist and the palm of my hands catch most of the impact. A few rocks scrape my skin. I try to stand up but Raj’ steps behind me, making sure I remain on the cold, hard ground.

I look up and see what looks like a mixture of anger and fear in the twin’s eyes — my only thoughts, what could be so powerful that affected the Salaquins this way.

“Show yourself, Randolph!” Si’reme yells out.

“With pleasure.”