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Alpha Prime's Exiled Wolf

Capítulo 1: Bound in chains

The larger grey wolf savagely tears apart the smaller brown wolf, the gruesome scene unfolding before my eyes. Despite my efforts, I can't hold back the tears that threaten to escape as they both shift back into human form.

The grey wolf, now a stereotypically handsome man standing at 6 feet tall with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, looks down at the bloody figure on the ground. The once smaller brown wolf painfully shifts into a man appearing to be in his 60s, blood staining the dusty ground beneath him.

I struggle against the chains that bind my ankles, neck, and arms, feeling their fiery bite against my skin with every move. With determined steps, I manage to make my way closer, straining to hear their conversation amidst the chaos.

"You brought this on yourself, Elder Darkthorn," Jake, the alpha of our pack, speaks with a mixture of anger and sorrow. "You attempted to kill my MATE. You've been like a second father to me, but you know the laws. My wolf was out for blood."

Elder Darkthorn, his voice weak and filled with pain, responds through coughs of blood, "Understood, alpha... But remember, my little girl had nothing to do with my plans. She shouldn't be punished for her father's misdeeds." He looks towards me with a gaze filled with love and regret.

Struggling against my chains, I try to move closer to him, wanting to reach out and comfort him in his final moments. But all he can do is mouth 'I love you' before the light fades from his eyes, leaving me with a deep sense of loss and grief.

Despite the crimes he committed, regardless of the darkness that tainted his legacy, he was still my father. The man who held my hand when I was afraid, the one who proudly displayed the silly charm I made for him when I was just a child in his office, the man who loved me more than life itself. And now, he was gone, taken by the consequences of his actions, leaving behind a shattered family and a daughter with chains that bound her in more ways than one.

"We shall hold a respectable funeral, despite his actions. Elder Darkthorn served as an elder for the Mystral Pack for two centuries," the alpha's voice rings out with a somber authority before he turns and leaves, likely to seek solace with his precious mate.

Two hours pass like a blur, and I find myself standing amidst the flickering flames of the funeral pyre, watching as they consume my father's body. The tribe's shaman stands nearby, chanting ancient incantations that seem to mingle with the crackling of the fire. Gradually, a towering blaze rises, engulfing everything in its path, until only glowing embers and drifting ashes remain.

"It is done," the shaman's voice carries a weight of finality. "He has been accepted by the ancestors."

The small group of mourners begins to disperse, leaving me alone in the eerie silence that follows. I kneel down on the scorched earth, my hands trembling as I bow my head towards the forest, a gesture of respect and farewell to the spirits and ancestors who now watch over my father's soul.

Tears mingle with the ash and dirt on my cheeks, a silent testament to the complex emotions churning within me. Despite the darkness that tainted his legacy, Elder Darkthorn was still my father. He may have committed unforgivable deeds, but he was also the man who taught me how to navigate the forest, who shared stories of our ancestors around the campfire, and who, despite everything, loved me fiercely.

Now, as the forest whispers with the gentle rustle of leaves, I feel the weight of grief and guilt pressing down on me. Guilt for the relief I feel that his reign of terror is finally over, mixed with the ache of loss for the father I once knew. I'm barely hanging on by a thread, caught between the conflicting emotions of mourning for the man he was and mourning for the father he could never be.

The Shaman motioned for me to follow him, and we made our way through the pack grounds. The clanging of chains echoed loudly as they dragged along the ground, drawing the attention of the pack members. Their gazes held a mix of pity, disgust, and avoidance. I couldn't blame them—I was covered in blood and dirt, bound by chains, and undoubtedly reeking from not having bathed in the past day. Some might find satisfaction in witnessing my downfall, but I refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing me crumble. I pressed my palms together tightly, feeling the sting as I bit down on my lip, determined to remain strong.

Eventually, we reached the borderlands at the northern edge of the pack territory. This was the moment. The Shaman's hand pushed down on my shoulder, forcing me to my knees. I felt the scrape of my knees against the rough ground, possibly drawing blood. It didn't matter. I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth, refusing to break down, refusing to let them see my vulnerability.

I remained on my knees for what felt like an eternity. The rest of the pack gathered around me as time passed.

The Shaman had left earlier, but now he returned, holding a metal rod with a shape resembling an 'O.' A young wolf approached, carrying a bucket filled with leaves. To my left, a fire was ignited, the wolves surrounding it filled with excitement. I was a spectacle, an exile, a rare occurrence that hadn't happened in two centuries. I couldn't help but feel bitter at being their learning experience.

As the fire crackled and grew, the Shaman placed the metal rod into the flames. Meanwhile, the alpha of the pack arrived, accompanied by his mate—the reason for all of this. Her name was Freya, a petite woman standing at 5'5" with delicate curves. She was cute, the type to evoke protective instincts in others, and it was no surprise that she had captured Jake's attention. I held no animosity toward her; it was simply fate's cruel game that had led us here.

Freya's gaze met mine, and in response, she buried her face in Jake's arms. What the hell? No wonder Jake had never shown any interest in me. I would rather endure the pain of swallowing barbed wire than act in such a manner. Jake, sensing her unease, reassured her, reminding her that I couldn't harm her. Of course, I couldn't—I was kneeling here, bound by chains forged with wolfsbane, unable to shift or do anything at all. My enhanced shifter hearing caught their words, and I wished I hadn't heard them.

Just as the situation threatened to become unbearable, the moon emerged from behind the clouds, casting its ethereal glow upon us all.