Alpha Xander: His Contracted Luna

She wondered what mysteries lay in the house of Marion-or worse, Xander withholding so much from her. She had just discovered his role in Shirley’s death.

He is not a vicious killer. He had sacrifices to make.

The underground layer was humid. She turned over to the other side of the mattress when the next drop of water hit her face. She scratched her fingers on the pillow. She stared at the silver caskets desperate for answers.

Jackson was just clueless when they both uncovered what was beneath the covers. A while ago he had just gone through the fact that he and Xander set this whole place up as a safe haven.

Safe haven. Not like she hasn’t heard those words before. A safe house, a condo. Then another safe house, a bigger condo. The irony was implying she was never safe in any of these places. What would make this layer any different?

It has supplied lighting that got dimmer by the second. Was it going to go off or blow out? Her mind was derailed. The caskets were one thing she couldn’t get her mind off. Enemies lost. Friend lost. Who or what was kept in those silver concatenations?

Jackson was lidless on a sealed crater. His legs folded and his palm on the prosthetic on the side of his face. A little darker than the color of his natural white skin. The days he had his hair over his face. The days he longed for. Now that the front hairline has been scorched and bettered by the fire. The crackling and hissing noise of fire still haunts him.

He wishes he could make things clearer for Catherine but his hands were tied by shackles of what his Alpha held secret. Secret he knew not of. His loyalty lies in the ambiguous nature of Xander. The obscurity and perplexing nature.

Catherine closed her eyes. She wanted to tap into her subconscious or wherever her mind wandered. The place, the realm, the life, and the eyes she saw through when she Xander vulnerable and making reckless decisions out of fear.

***IN THE MORNING AT THE LAKE***

He woke up on the shore. Crabs rolling sea shells by his feet. He could taste the sand on his lips. The dark waters of the lake were now bright and blue after the full moon. He rose up to meet the waves at his knees. He walked away from the shore in his ragged clothes.

His hair was moist and scattered across his face. His palms were dirtied, rough, and dry. He felt an ache in the sides of his jaws. He bit into his cheek lightly. That alone couldn’t numb pain. He rubbed a fist against his jaw and opened his mouth wide.

He widened his jaw. He felt a slight stretch of muscle. He was relieved and folded his lips into his mouth. He swiveled his arms and legs to get loose.

He pulled off what was once a fine-sleeved shirt. The Alpha could not comprehend how he got here. Last night he was consumed by his uncontrollable intent to hurt and kill on sight. He glances at the top of the palm trees.

He tilted his head and observed a red scarf brought down by the wind. He ran to catch it. He perceived the scent of blood. It was one of his own. A werewolf of the Alpha pack. What happened last night?

His eyes were shaky. His blood was hot. He straightened and by the sound of the voice of a female, he dashed into the woods.

***LAST NIGHT IN THE WOODS***

The wolves were growling at each other. Ruben was unchanged. He watched the white husky drooling at him. The brown and black wolves scattered around the trees. Their legs were chained to the barks. The wolves lowered to bite through the locks.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

Shawn was the white hound. Ruben to lay a hand on his grey head. He snapped at him. Ruben fell on his back. Now nettle but the absurdity of events. He hadn’t turned like the others.

“Isn’t this just perfect,” he grunted.

“That freaking witch screwed us over I guess,” Eve appeared standing in front of him with her broken locks dangling on her wrists.

“What the hell?” Polo stealthily walked on over.

“Way to go for the dramatic effect,” Eve glanced at Polo and grabbed a hammer next to the husky. “You didn’t have to rip off your shirt though,” she palmed the sled.

“No one told me he was one of us,” Polo groaned raising a brow at Ruben.

Ruben carefully set his foot for Eve.

“Be ready to lose a toe or two,” She raised the hammer over her head.

“Wait, what?” Ruben fidgeted.

She smashed the lock. The metal sprung open. Ruben unshielded his face with his arms.

“Not so bad now is it?” Eve hung the hammer over her shoulders.

“Please tell me why the hell we are freeing him?” Polo hovered Ruben. “It was just you and me,” he turned to Eve.

“I guess ratchet claw is not so secretive after all,” Ruben stretched his cuffed wrists in the air.

“Start talking,” Polo pulled him up by the arm.

“Give it a rest slugger,” Eve sighed walking down to the middle of the oak tree garden. “He is the one Mayfair was talking about,” se yawned and dumped the sledgehammer to the side.

“Mayfair is dead,” Ruben dragged his arm away from Polo’s grip. “Didn’t you guys hear?”

“I knew this guy wasn’t one of us,” Polo scoffed.

“What?” Ruben pocketed.

“She reincarnated,” Eve said a few feet away. She bent over to stretch down her back and jolted upright.

“As a big scary raven,” Polo shoved Ruben and walked along to meet Eve.

“Well that’s news to me,” Ruben followed them from behind. “So where are we going?”

“We?” Polo furrowed and turned back with a scornful face. “There is no we boy.”

“It’s getting annoying slugger,” Eve sighed. “We are heading to the pine trees.”

“Towards the Betas,” Ruben jaunted to her side.

“Yes, we have guys in the betas too,” Eve side-eyed. “Do well not to make a fuss about it when you see them.”

***FEW MOMENTS LATER***

“What the hell?” Eve jumped over a log. “The betas are gone.”

“Their scent is not anywhere near,” Ruben crouched to the ground.

“Look out,” Polo hollered from behind them.

A human figure charged at Eve, so quickly the footsteps were barely heard. Just a light Whoosh. She tried to block the attack to her face but the creature clawed at her forehead. Her scarf was loose and was taken by the wind of the night. Stained with blood and destitute from the creature’s fingers.

Ruben held the black cloak of the invader. The scent was not of any werewolf or living creature. The invader kicked Ruben’s hand off the end of its cloak.

“They are vampires,” Eve fell to the ground.

“Bloodsucking vermins,” Polo opened out his claws and jumped in.

Another black coat appeared behind him. Polo turned around with an elbow strike. He missed. The vampire caught his arm and bit into him. Polo wailed.

Ruben punched the vampire in the head. Polo was released from the bite. The veil over its face fell. It revealed a female with long white hair. Ruben by the neck and snapped it.

“Don’t fret,” Ruben grunted. “It’s our bite that is lethal to them.”

Polo nodded and spared at the lonely vampire into a tree. They were two and now the other is out of bounds.

“This is an ambush,” Ruben looked at other black cloaks emerging from the woods.

“They came out of nowhere,” Eve got to her feet.

She wiped the blood off her forehead with her wrist.

“I have got this one in a lock,” Polo held the vampire tightly on the tree bark. “Somebody grab me a spike.”

“Snap a freaking branch,” Ruben observed the vampires coming closer.

Polo was too late to react. The vampire he held against the tree dug its fangs deep into his shoulder. Polo endured the pain. He inched back and bashed the head of the vampire on the tree bark till its skull cracked open.

Polo turned around to meet the head of the black cloak. His cloak was hooded, unlike the others. His hand was buried into Polo’s chest. Polo’s heart pounded in the vampire’s fist.

“Beg for your life,” the vampire tilted his head.

“Rot in hell you blood-suck-”

The vampire pulled out his heart. Polo dropped to his knees with a hole in his chest. He took one last glance at Eve struggling on the ground before he died.

He rushed to Eve’s side to form a defensive duo.

“What do you think happened to the betas,” Eve muttered to Ruben’s side.

The black cloaks were ten in number. They surrounded the deltas.

“I don’t wanna guess,” Ruben snapped a branch. “You were last seen with them,” he groaned.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” she panted.

The black cloaks leaped onto them. Their veils opened up in the air revealing their pale, dry faces. Their fangs were long and pointy.

Ruben shoved a vampire in the chest with the sharp end of the branch. He brought out the bloodied wood from the now-dead vampire and struck it at the face of another. Eve was overpowered and put down. It appears she was a target. The multitude was on her.

Ruben turned to help her. He had stepped to claws into the backs of two bloodsuckers with a sledge rammed into the back of his head. It was the white-haired vampire. Her neck was just broken at the time, she recovered and was hell-bent on sucking Ruben dry of his blood.

She lowered to the ground and screeched opening her mouth wide.

“Let him be Ophelia,” the head of the black cloaks ordered.