The Alpha King And His Wolfless Luna

Third-person Narrative. Dead bodies of friends and foes littered the woods as he marched steadily and gracefully into enemy territory, fully armed with a sword draped in blood. Bloody sweats rolled down his perfect canvas face and well-toned body. The earth beneath him shook at every step he took. He realized he was no longer in control of himself at that point; something else had taken over. Something so strong is capable of consuming him if caution is not taken. As he moved closer to the enemy pack, he could hear the voices of women wailing, children weeping, and men who were once considered to be the best among their peers gnashing their teeth in antagonizing pain. They dared him. They dared to test him and see how insane he could get. He was going to leave behind a long-lasting memory so that the survivors would have bedtime stories to tell their unborn children. He was going to make sure he turned the very earth that they stood on red with the blood of their men, or else his name wouldn't be Alexander Xavier, first son and only heir to the Bad Moon pack. Becoming the alpha was Alexander's major priority, but he was not too concerned about what he needed to do to become one. The pack has a law that no alpha can ascend the throne unless he already has a mate. Alexander's father was so sure his son was going to get a mate on his eighteenth birthday. After all, he was the strongest alpha male the pack had to offer. Moreover, the moon goddess had blessed him with a look that can only be bestowed on a god. He was tall, handsome, and masculine. His father also wanted the honor of passing the crown to his only son, just as his own father did for him. His heart was more than broken when his son could not find his mate on his eighteenth birthday, and a few months later, the old king died. He left behind the most important seat in all of the werewolf kingdoms vacant for his younger brother to manage until Alexander can find a mate. Alexander had been given a four-year grace period to find his mate or risk being banished forever from the pack. It's been over three years since that decree was made, and Alexander has yet to find his mate. But what he lacked in companionship, he made up for in strength and stamina. He was good with his sword, better with his fist, and a nightmare with his wolf nature. A warrior charged toward him with all his might, attempting to hit him with the sword in his hand. He dove and, with a swift of his sword, emptied the warrior's stomach as his intestines rushed out of the tiny space that they once had as home. Another man charged toward him in anger, running with all his might, but unfortunately, he missed his chance as a swipe from Alex's sword sent his head flying from the rest of his body. Just then, Alexander heard a gasp behind him. He turned to see a warrior with an arrow piercing through his heart, coughing out blood before crumbling to the ground. As the warrior fell, Alexandra's eyes came into contact with Jessica, the best archer in the entire kingdom and a best friend of his. Many believed that they were made to be the power couple, even though Alex had never thought of Jessica that way. He had never thought of any woman that way. All he wanted from any female was a bit of wild, rough s*x, and then he was finished with them. He believed keeping a woman would weaken him, as his enemies would find an easy way to get to him. Jessica marched towards him, armed with her bow and arrow, firing shots at the enemies around them. She soon got close to him and smirked at his admiring look. "Are you going to stare at me all day, or are you going to kill these motherfuckers so we can get the f**k out of here?" she teased. "You are late," he said, as a little smile played around his lips. "Just so I remind you, you never invited me, so how can you say I'm late?" She fired at him. "We will continue this discussion later," he said, as he turned his eyes to the little cell that held the reason they were there in the first place. The cell was protected by over thirty men who had various weapons, and with his men still far behind in the battle, he had the choice to either attack or wait till his men arrived. "Go; I will cover you," Jessica said to him, and that was all the reassurance he needed. The only person he trusted most in the world, aside from himself, would be Jessica. He took steady, long strides toward the warriors, who immediately attacked him, but he was steady, and he tackled each man one at a time. Jessica looked at her best friend and admired how strong and courageous he was, but she knew that if she didn't step in sooner or later, Alexander would be badly injured or killed. She watched the fight before her with a broken heart as a million thoughts flew through her mind. She had come here to kill her best friend, not to save him. He was on her way to becoming the luna, and that was how he got himself here in the first place. only if he knows that the endless battles and fights that have been happening are all the handiwork of his uncle. The father of the child had come to the rescue. She could just stand back and watch him die, but a whimpering sound from Alex was all she needed to start firing her arrows at the warriors. As soon as Alex got a breathing space, he was back on his feet, swinging the sword in his hand in all directions, till every man who was once standing was lying dead on the floor. He looked around to see if Jessica was still there, but soon discovered that she was gone. He runs to the cells and cuts open the chains as a little girl, not more than eight years old, runs out to hug him in a tight embrace. "I knew you would come for me," she said in her tiny, innocent voice. The little girl's name is Olivia. She is the daughter of Derrick, and she is Alexander's favorite niece. "I will always come to get you, wherever you may be, sweetheart," he said, placing tinier kisses on her cheeks. "You are my hero," she said, bursting with happiness. "Come, it's time to take you home," he said, lifting the child on one arm and arming himself with his sword on the other. *** Location: Bad Moon Pack Everyone went about their daily activities back in the bad old backpack. As evening approached, a van carrying newly purchased slaves and foodstuffs drove into view. The van came to a halt, and the slaves were ordered to disembark. The slaves all looked scared, as this would be their first time there. But they have heard stories of the bad moon pack. Terrifying stories. There has been little hushed talk among themselves while being driven here. The deal of surviving the first day in the pack was to be found useful, or else it meant immediate death for anyone that was not picked. But noticeably among the slaves was a young girl, not more than nineteen years old. She was petite and looked so fragile that anyone would think she would drop dead soon from her tiny structure. "Welcome to your new home." I know you have all been brought here from various packs, but here you must try to live as one. You will be assigned different positions and places to work, and you must never be found wanting in any way. Is that clear? "AA man dressed in a warrior outfit said "Yes, sir," they all answered. Soon, the heads of various units came to pick the people they wanted to work with, and the farmers came and took those who said they could work in the pack farmlands. The kitchen head came and took those who could cook with her, and the same with the cleaners; they took theirs too. By the time they were done, only one girl remained standing. Nobody wanted anything to do with her because she was too skinny and weak to be useful to any of them. Her heart was pounding faster by the minute. She knew the implication of not being picked, as she had been told several times. The repercussions are too dreadful to think about as she tries to fight the hot tears that are threatening to drop from her eyes. "You come here," the soldier said, with his hand placed on his sword. She moved as if the wind had ordered her steps. She was a few steps away from the soldier when he drew his sword. That same minute, a voice roared from behind her. "Stop!" the voice ordered, and the soldier returned his sword to his formal position. A man came to address the warrior in a rage. The mere sight of him sent shivers down her spine. He was huge and intimidating. "I thought I said there should be no more killing of slaves, irrespective of whatever the case may be," the man who just saved her life said to the warrior. She couldn't exactly make out what he looked like, but from his bloody shoes and legs, she could tell that he was a very dangerous man. "I'm sorry, Alpha, but I was acting on your uncle's instruction," the warrior said. "Where is he?" "In the Packhouse" "Leave her alone," Alexandra said to the warrior as he walked towards the packhouse, not once sparing the girl whose life he had just saved with a glance. She sighed with relief as she stood there alone, unsure of when her next last breath would be drawn. Just then, she heard another set of footsteps heading toward her, but she was too scared to see who it was. I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting, my dear. Please come; let's go. "We have lots of patients waiting for us to attend to," a friendly female voice said. She lifted her head to see a smiling elderly woman, and for the first time in her nineteen years of living, she felt a bit of comfort. "What's your name?" the elderly woman asked as she led the way to the pack health clinic. "Ashley," she mumbled under her breath.