Bloody Alpha

The bitter cold makes my eyes water as I navigate the long, shadowy alleyway. It’s a little past midnight, and the nearly full moon is hidden behind a veil of dark clouds, its glow barely reaching this secluded path.

The towering brick buildings on either side cast a deep darkness, broken only by a faint light at the end of the alley. It flickers like a distant lighthouse in the night.

I could have hailed a cab, but my budget doesn’t allow for such luxuries. Besides, my home isn’t too far from here. Still, the thought of walking alone at night sends a shiver down my spine, and it’s not just from the cold.

Being a werewolf doesn’t make things any easier. I’m an omega, the lowest of the low in the pack hierarchy. It feels more like a curse than a gift.

Sure, the enhanced senses and rapid healing are perks, but they hardly compensate for the relentless bullying from other wolves. They seem to take pleasure in reminding me of my lowly status.

Sometimes, I can’t help but wonder if life would have been simpler as a human. But there’s no use dwelling on what-ifs. I am what I am, and there’s no changing that.

A gust of wind sends a flurry of snow up my legs, sneaking under my dress.

My thigh-high wool stockings are no match for the biting cold. I quicken my pace, hugging my coat closer to my body.

Who in their right mind would venture out in this weather, wearing a knee-length dress and heels, with only a wool coat for protection? That would be me.

I knew I’d be walking home when I left the house, but I wanted to look good for a change. This isn’t a typical Saturday night for me, and I didn’t anticipate this much snow or the wind picking up.

My best friend, Galina, had invited me out for dinner. I don’t have many friends, but Galina has always been there for me, through thick and thin.

We hit it off the moment we met five years ago. Despite our differences, we understood and respected each other.

Galina is bold and confident, hailing from a wealthy, high-ranking family. She’s never shy about being the center of attention or standing up to anyone.

I’m the polar opposite. I come from a modest family of omegas.

I’m quiet and reserved, preferring to blend into the background. I lack Galina’s self-assuredness and often see myself as less than ordinary.

But with Galina, I feel seen. I feel safe.

Money has been tight since I moved out of my parents’ house three years ago. I have to watch every penny.

Galina never comments on my financial situation, nor does she pressure me to accept help. She understands and respects my desire to be independent.

When she suggested going out tonight, I hesitated. But she insisted it was her treat since she was the one who wanted to go out. She wanted me to join her.

So, I gave in. I love spending time with her.

Galina is the only werewolf I know who doesn’t feel the need to assert her dominance over me. She’s treated me as an equal since the day we met.

We had a wonderful time tonight, enjoying a three-course meal, wine, and a few drinks.

I can’t remember the last time I dined out. But tonight, I had a blast. I even managed to relax, given that most of the patrons at the restaurant were humans.

As I continue down the alley, the wind howling around the corners of the buildings, I can’t help but feel grateful for a friend like Galina.

Suddenly, a noise behind me breaks my train of thought.

I spin around, but the darkness and the thickly falling snow make it impossible to see anything.

My heart is pounding like a drum, my body shaking with fear. I force myself to turn around and continue walking. My pulse is a deafening roar in my ears, and swallowing feels like a Herculean task.

A wave of icy wind hits me, and my stomach churns with dread. My past has left me a bundle of nerves.

I always expect the worst, bracing myself for when things inevitably go south. It’s as if I have a sixth sense for impending disaster.

The distant sounds of laughter and conversation from the nearby bars and restaurants are still audible, but I doubt anyone would hear me if I screamed. The end of the alley is much closer than the bustling street.

A metallic clatter echoes off the alley walls, followed by a deep, muffled voice. It’s clear that I’m not alone.

My eyes widen in realization, and I feel the blood drain from my face. I quicken my pace, heading towards the light at the end of the alley. My breaths come in short, sharp gasps, making me dizzy.

I tilt my head slightly, straining to hear any sounds behind me, tuning out the crunch of snow beneath my shoes.

I don’t want to alert whoever—or whatever—is behind me that I’m scared and trying to escape. So, I maintain my pace, but take longer strides.

As I hurry along, my heel hits a patch of ice hidden beneath the snow, and I tumble, landing hard on my ass.

Stunned, I sit on the icy ground, trying to process what just happened. Then, the sound of shattering glass echoes behind me.

I whip my head around towards the noise, but the falling snow obscures my vision. I stay perfectly still, squinting into the darkness.

Then, I spot two faint points of light.

I freeze for a moment, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. Then, my heart starts to race, and I break out in a cold sweat.

A sniff and a low growl reverberate down the alley, and I gasp, scrambling to my feet.

“Eheey!” a voice barks from behind me.

I kick off my shoes and sprint towards the end of the alley, skidding left at the end. I need to get away, and fast!

Tears stream down my face, the freezing wind stinging my cheeks.

I keep running, my thoughts racing as fast as my legs. It must be a man—the deep voice was a dead giveaway.

His voice was commanding, harsh, and devoid of mercy, which scares the shit out of me. He’s clearly a dominant.

He could be human, but that doesn’t make me any less afraid. Humans can be just as cruel as any wolf.

If he catches me, there’s no telling what he might do. At best, he’ll yell at me. At worst, he’ll get physical. I don’t want either, regardless of his species.

In my experience, the more dominant someone is, the more they feel the need to assert their dominance. And for some reason, I always seem to be the target.

It’s as if I have a target painted on my forehead. If my gut feeling is right, I don’t want to cross paths with this guy.

As my house comes into view, I risk a glance over my shoulder. Thankfully, the street behind me is empty.

I fumble for my keys as I run, ready to unlock my door at a moment’s notice. A single second could be all he needs to catch up to me.

My house is only a kilometer away from the town, but the winding street means the end of the alley is now out of sight.

He could still be chasing me, so I can’t afford to slow down, no matter how much my body protests. Instead, I push myself to run even faster.

My feet are numb, and I can taste blood in my mouth. My ears are ringing, and the cold air burns my throat and lungs.

As I clumsily ascend the pair of steps leading to my front door, a guttural, beast-like bellow echoes from the alleyway.

A chill races down my back, threatening to bring me to my knees in terror. Fresh tears well up in my eyes, spilling over and tracing cold paths down my wind-chilled cheeks as I fumble with the key, my hands trembling uncontrollably.

“HOLY SHIT!”