Bloody Alpha

ALARIC

I’m glaring at the drink in my hand like it’s personally offended me. The amber liquid dances as I sway the glass back and forth.

The bar is a cacophony of laughter, shouting, and off-key singing, but it’s all just background noise to me. My forehead creases as I slide the glass over the worn wooden counter.

My friends have disappeared into the crowd. I’m left alone at the end of the bar with my disagreeable drink.

A few brave women have tried to approach me, but my gruff growl and intimidating scowl sent them scurrying before they could utter a word.

I’m in a sour mood and I’m not in the mood for company.

I’ve lost track of how many drinks I’ve had tonight, but no matter how many I down, the hollow feeling inside me doesn’t lessen. I feel like a bottomless pit.

I throw my head back and finish the whiskey in one gulp. The glass hits the counter with a thud that draws a few glances, but everyone wisely keeps their comments to themselves.

This is bullshit!

I glance over my shoulder to see Marcelo, Jaylen, and Jackson, lost in the music and dancing with a group of human women.

They’re enjoying themselves, and they’ve earned it after putting up with my mood swings.

We’ve been on the road for almost three years, visiting packs all over, making allies and battling enemies. This is our last stop before we head home.

The bartender slides a beer my way and gives me a silent nod of respect. I appreciate his silence.

I grab the bottle and push myself off the bar stool. My head spins and I stumble back, bumping into someone.

They say something, but their words are lost in the noise.

How long have I been here? Damn, I need to pee.

I weave my way through the crowd, my height giving me a clear view of the restrooms, even though my vision is blurry.

Great, the line is a mile long!

I head for the exit, pushing through the crowd. A few people turn to complain, but one look at me and they think better of it.

I’m radiating authority and I probably look like I’m ready to start a fight. I’m not far from it, honestly. One wrong word and someone’s getting a broken nose.

This trip has worn me down. I’m constantly irritable, short-tempered, and on edge. I’ve forgotten what fun feels like.

I reach the exit and nearly trip over the threshold. I grab the door frame to steady myself, the wood creaking under my grip, but no one notices.

My strength is hard to control when I’m drunk, and right now, I’m beyond pissed.

I can’t feel my face or my limbs, but the ache inside me is still there, gnawing at me. Nothing I do seems to dull it.

I take a long swig of my beer and let out a loud burp. People on the street turn to see who the rude jerk is, but when they see me, they scatter.

Yeah, that’s right, get lost!

It’s snowing and the wind is colder than when we arrived. I don’t mind. The cold doesn’t bother me.

Besides, with all the alcohol in my system, I feel like I’m on fire. The cold wind is a welcome relief.

My eyes flutter open and shut, struggling to find a direction to relieve myself. It’s no use. It feels like my brain cells are in a deep slumber.

I glance to the right, but it only intensifies the throbbing in my head. I press my fingers against the bridge of my nose, hoping to alleviate the pain.

What was I doing? Oh, right, I need to pee!

I open my eyes again, turning my head back to the direction I had just jerked it from.

Ah, an alley, thank God! Perfect!

I stumble towards it, grunting as I navigate the dark corner. I search for a spot where I can relieve myself without the entire town watching.

The darkness and my drunken state make it difficult to stay upright. It’s pitch black and the world is spinning.

This spot will do, I don’t care anymore. I’m about to burst.

I unzip my pants with one hand and start making yellow patterns in the snow. A deep sigh of relief escapes my lips as the pressure subsides.

A breeze brushes against my face, feeling like a gentle hand caressing my cheek. It’s a sensation I’ve never experienced before.

I close my eyes, savoring the feeling that courses through my body, and let go of all the pent-up anger and frustration.

A faint aroma of apples and sweet citrus fills my nostrils, causing my heart to pound against my chest.

My eyes snap open. An intense desire to find the source of the scent consumes me.

I take a few shaky steps deeper into the alley, trying to concentrate my senses to locate the origin of the scent. I want more. No, I need more!

A few moments pass, but I can’t hear or see anything. I take a deep breath, trying to taste the air.

Nothing. ~It’s gone. Damn it!~

The relief I had felt just moments ago vanishes, and I punch a metal dumpster in frustration. The sound reverberates between the buildings.

The excessive alcohol has messed with my senses, and my body is in chaos. My heart feels heavy and tight in my chest, almost causing my knees to give out.

“Fucking shit, tits, idiot, cunt!” I curse under my breath. I thought maybe, just maybe… But no. It’s just the alcohol playing tricks on me.

My heart clenches painfully again, making it difficult to breathe. I press my fingers against my temples and close my eyes. I’m too drunk to function, too drunk to think.

A soft thud echoes from further down the alley. I freeze instantly, trying to focus my blurry vision into the darkness. But it’s no use.

The anger that has been building up inside me takes over, and I smash the beer bottle against the wall, shattering it into countless pieces.

The frustration is getting to me, and I’m losing control. I stand as still as my drunken state allows, and since my vision is impaired, I listen.

It’s faint, but there’s a heartbeat. Definitely female. I open my eyes again and squint into the darkness.

Where is she? Who is she?

I’m completely disoriented; everything is spinning. My breathing is heavy, my heart is pounding painfully, and my head is spinning. I sniff the air again, desperate to catch her scent.

Nothing! Damn it!

Anger surges through my body again. The frustration takes over, and I let out an angry growl.

“Hey!” My deep, raspy voice echoes down the alley with as much authority as a drunk wolf can muster.

The figure starts moving in the distance. It takes me a full minute to realize that she’s moving away from me, not towards me.

The alcohol from the last beer is hitting me hard now, adding to my already intoxicated state.

The figure quickly disappears from the alley, and I start moving my unsteady legs towards where I saw movement. I try to move quickly, but I’m too drunk and I trip over the snow-covered pavement. I can barely think, let alone move.

In the world of werewolves, running away like that is considered incredibly disrespectful, especially when running from an alpha.

Yet, oddly enough, my fury over the blatant disrespect isn't as strong as my resolve to locate her.

I halt in my tracks when the aroma of apple and sweet citrus wafts by me once more. It's subtle, but it's enough to spur me on. I shut my eyes and draw in a slow, deep breath, allowing it to soothe my throbbing head.

The ache in my heart subsides for a brief moment, but then the scent vanishes once again.

I tilt my head back and release a roar. A roar filled with anger, agony, exasperation, yearning, and grief.