Attending breakfast with three hundred of hungry and chatty werewolves had never really been on my bucket list, reason why I decided to skip it. Or, maybe, I wanted to avoid only one of them.

That's how I found myself in the woods, blood coating my silvery fur and dripping from my muzzle. Let's say I had an "alternative" breakfast.

My beast tore through the still hot flesh of the stag, her razor fangs slicing cordons and muscles, enjoining the taste of her prey on her tongue. She was leaving her favorite part for last, the liver.
Just when she was about to lose herself in the taste of that exquisite piece of meat, a snap resonated through the trees.
She lifted her snout from the carcass, sniffing the air and eyeing her surroundings with sharp attention. Her golden globes monitored the trees, looking for any type of danger.

She was being watched.

She stood on her four legs, body tense, fur raised, a low intimidating growl erupting from her, resonating from her chest to the morning silence of the woods.
She sniffed the air again: pines, musk, pine cones... and then, the unmistakable scent of a fox. A male.

A red blur suddenly darted between the greenery, appearing and disappearing through the foliage and the trunks of the trees.
My beast let out a far more intimidating growl, asserting her dominance. She was frozen on the spot, protecting her prey.
For a few seconds reigned the silence, then the fox bolted from his refuge, showing himself.

Amber eyes were locked on our prey, glinting in hunger. My wolf lowered her ears and snapped her jaw in the intruder's direction in warning. The fox shifted his gaze from the dead stag to us. He lifted his upper lip, showing us his teeth, and hissed. My beast was not pleased with that act. Not pleased at all.
She mirrored the fox's actions, pacing in front of our prey in order to mark the boundaries of our possession.

Teeth bared.
Hackles raised.
Muscles tensed.
Waiting.

The animal launched at us, feral, his instincts shadowed by his hunger.
My beast was about to teach him one of the most important rules of survival: never go for the prey of a predator more powerful than you.

The fox went to bite our front leg, but my wolf, snarling at the affront, swiftly dodged his attack and sunk her teeth in the tender flesh of his shoulder, biting hard enough to feel her teeth scraping against bone.
A loud whine came from the injured animal, making my beast bite down harder.

She was asserting her dominance.

When she felt her opponent become flightless, she released the hold on his shoulder, moving backwards. The fox slumped on the ground, whining loudly, trying to reach his wound in order to lick it. A growl from my beast was enough for him to stood up on his not injured legs and limping away from us, towards the deep green of the woods.

When my beast couldn't feel his presence anymore, she turned towards our prey huffing in annoyance. She hated being interrupted while feeding and now, without any more interruptions, she could resume her previously actions, launching herself at the liver.

—-

I silently entered the empty pack house, reaching my room in a flash. Despite my attempt at washing part of the dried blood away from my face in a rivulet I had found on my way back, I still didn't want the Silverblood members to see me like this.
They were accustomed to the conditions I was currently in, but I still had some kind of morals. A woman coated in dried blood, leaves and mud was a gruesome sight, werewolf or not.

After some scrubbing in the shower, I descended the stairs dressed in a pair of jeans and a cream colored sweater, ready to start the day and, maybe, have a cup of coffee in peace.

The kitchen was empty when I arrived, Layla was nowhere in sight. The coffee pot, however, was still full and partially hot. Serving myself, I sweetened the black coffee with one spoon of sugar. I brought the still fuming cup to my lips, taking a sip. I closed my eyes, humming in delight at the sour, but at the same time addicting taste of the ground coffee beans.

A day started without coffee was a day starting bad. Little did I know that my day was bound to get bad despite the coffee I had.

I was still sipping from my cup when I suddenly felt another presence in the room.
By the raising of the hairs on the back of my neck, I knew who this person was.

Bekka stood there, at the border of the kitchen counter, and, by her stance, a little surprised of seeing me in the room.
Unbothered, I slowly finished drinking my coffee, savoring each sip, and maintaining eye contact with the other female. For once, I wasn't asserting my dominance. My attention towards her was only out of curiosity. However, she shifted uncomfortably under my gaze, briefly casting her eyes on the floor, before lifting them up once again.
Nodding at her in recognition, I began walking towards the door, not paying attention to the daggers she was throwing at my back.
My bloodlust had already been satiated by my early morning hunt and, in addiction, I was secretly wishing to spend a day here without drama involved.

But of course, she had to speak, ruining my plans.

"I saw the way you look at him. He isn't yours to have."

Of course she had to go there. A female staking her claim on her desired prey.
Little did she knew that if I wanted he really was mine to have but, fortunately for her, I didn't. Yesterday had only been a moment of weakness caused by the bond. Having said "yes" was only a consequence of the vulnerability I had felt at the moment. Or so I liked to think. I wasn't backing down from it though. I would go to the Gala with Hercules as my date, smile for the press, be charming to the investors and at the end of the night I would confront him, telling him that it would be the only time he would see me out of work boundaries. We were workmates. Nothing more, nothing less. Giving him hope on us being something more than that was the wrong thing to do and, unfortunately, it was exactly what I did yesterday, accepting his proposition.

Anyway, this she-wolf held no right at telling me what to do.

I stopped in my tracks, slowly turning to face her. Raising my eyebrow, I leaned on the door frame, deciding to feign ignorance.

"Who are you talking about?"

She tried to maintain her composure, but by the way she clenched her hands, she was failing miserably.

"You perfectly know who. Alpha Hercules."

"Oh."

I was finding this situation quite amusing. Teasing her was enjoyable, a repayment for all the times she had held my gaze in challenge. She had messed with the wrong female and now I would make her understand that.

"But is he? Is he yours to have instead?"

At my question, she straightened her spine, trying to gain an air of authority.

"Yes. I am his Chosen and in..."

"So you are not his mate." I interrupted her.

She gritted her teeth, her eyes flaring ablaze.

"No, I am not. But he chose me..."

"So in reality, he isn't yours to have."

"Stop interrupting me!" She spat, showing me a little bit of teeth.

Despite her disrespectful move, I found myself being pleased. Irking her was way more easy than I thought and the satisfaction I was feeling overpowered even the urge of putting her in her place.

I threw my hands in the air, mocking surrender. She held a breath before resuming with her no sense.

"As I was saying, Hercules is destined to me. I am his Chosen and when he will understand that he won't ever meet his mate, he will come to me."

"Congratulations. And you are telling me this because...?" I said, while twirling a finger in the air in boredom.

"Because I saw the way you look at him! Stop trying to get what is mine! I sacrificed everything for this position! My pack, my family, my mate..I love him!" She shouted.

All her screaming was now getting me a little bit irritated. Taking a deep breath in order to calm down my wolf, who was clawing to get free and sink her teeth in the flesh of the disrespectful she-wolf, I resumed talking.

"I am sorry for the sacrifices you made, but they are not my fault. Throwing your frustrations at me won't help you. And then, you are wrong. I have no claim over your Alpha and I look at him only as a work employer. I don't want his attentions. He is all yours to have."

She opened her mouth to fire back, but when my words registered in her mind, she shut up. Bekka looked at me shocked, clearly aspecting another type of answer. She thought I was going to fight for Hercules' heart, but I wouldn't. It wasn't mine in the beginning and it would not be mine in the end. Bekka was a more suitable candidate for him and for the sake of the pack.

She swiftly regained composure, letting a bit of her aura pour out of her skin. She had a powerful aura, fitting for a leader.

"Well, that's it then. I am happy I made myself clear. You couldn't interest him anyway, you are not what he is looking for. He is searching for a strong female, valorous and capable of leading the pack by his side. You don't know the first thing about packs, you would be an awful Luna. In addiction you are not even a true werewolf."

That's when she overstepped her boundaries.
I was seeing red.
The calm state I managed to muster during our talk was now gone. Rage, pulsating fury and bloodlust took its place.

I launched at her, claw elongated and teeth bared. My beast was not contained anymore. She was free, bathing in the bloodlust that was humming through our veins. Bekka tried to dodge my attack, but she was too slow. I hurled her to the wall, pinning her by the neck and piercing her flesh with my claws. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. The scent of her blood delighted me and I growled in appreciation.
She tried to break free from my hold, but she was unsuccessful. Her eyes, now shifting between brown and yellow, still held determination, but it was a thin veil masking her true emotion.

Fear.

"Do you feel it female? The pain? Do you feel my claws deep in your flesh? Tell me. Tell me if they seem fake to you. Tell me!" I snarled in her face, my eyes revealing the wild beneath.
"Go cry at the feet of your beloved Alpha, I dare you. I had been kind to you, giving you what you wanted and not caring about your provocations, but no more. You could be Beta, Luna or even the Pope for what I care, but I dare you to disrespect me one more time. You talk about me being without valor, but remember that you just have been beaten by a 'fake' werewolf. Hold your tongue female. Next time it will utter disrespectful words towards me, you will be missing it."

I tightened my hold on her neck, but careful not to pierce her skin in a dangerous way. Rivulets of hot blood poured from her wounds, flowing on my hand and down to my arm.
They weren't deep, nor dangerous for her health, but painful enough to make my message clear.

I released her neck and slowly exited the room without looking back.

—

By the time I had to check up on Sarah's condition I was still deeply pissed off, but I managed to wear a mask of calmness and kindness for the sake of my work.
She was stable. She didn't worsen, but she didn't get better either.

I was currently reading the first medical journal I retrieved from the library and it was way past dinner time. This morning I had been actually considering joining the others for dinner, but my encounter with Bekka reminded me why I disliked werewolves in the first place, so I decided to lock myself in my room, studying and researching.

Dr. Fitzgerald - the doctor whose memories I was reading - was teaching me how to proper cauterize a wound with burned thyme, when my stomach began growling.
Casting a glance at my watch, I saw that it was a little before 10.30 pm. I was famished, my stomach agreeing with me by having hungry spasms. Dinner would surely over by now, so I decided to risk it. Exiting my room, I made my way to the kitchen, paying attention at being as quiet as possible. I brought Dr. Fitzgerald's journal with me to have a little bit of company while eating. The ground floor was dark and quiet, sign that I had no living company. Sighing in relief, I entered the kitchen, reaching the fridge and opening its door. Eyeing its shelves, my eyes got caught by a plate full of chicken curry and white rice.

Bingo.

While I was waiting for it to heat in the microwave, I disposed the cutlery on the kitchen counter.
Sat on a stool, I resumed reading where I had previously stopped, too engrossed in the words and in the taste of my dinner to notice that, unfortunately, I wasn't alone anymore.

"A little bit late to have dinner, don't you think?"

I didn't bother to lift my eyes to see who my companion was, because by the sound of his voice I already knew that it was the person I was really trying to avoid.

"It's never too late to mind your own business instead." I replied, still focused on the page I was reading.

"Who spat in your coffee this morning?"

I snorted. He was clearly joking, but he didn't know that what he was saying was actually true.

"Actually, my coffee routine was ruined by your girlfriend."

Silence enveloped the room. The only audible sounds were made by me chewing on my dinner and turning pages.

"What are you talking about? I don't have a girlfriend and I already told you that.."

"Yeah." I interrupted him. "That you only want me because I am your mate. Old story Hercules, you need to step up your game if..."

When I lifted my attention from the journal in order to address him, I shut up.

Naked skin.
Tanned naked skin.
Toned tanned naked skin.

His chest was bare, displayed in all its glory in front of my eyes. The only time I had seen him shirtless had been at the lake and, being distant, I hadn't had the opportunity to capture all the sharp angles and prominent lines of his body, but now it was a different story. He was not a burly man, but he was defined, perfectly shaped and well-proportioned. Lean and strong. Powerful. An Alpha male in his prime.

The sound of his voice brought me out of my train of thoughts.

"You were saying?"

Hercules's tone sounded indifferent but, by the way his chest lowly rumbled, both he and his wolf were pleased that their mate was inspecting their form.

It was impossible for me to not appreciate what I was seeing. The bond required it. The bond wouldn't allow anything else. But I found myself wondering if, had I met this male under other circumstances - no mate bond involved -, I would have been attracted to him regardless.
Something was telling me that yes, I would have. I tried to regain control over my hormones, telling myself that he was just a man. And I had seen plenty of men in my life.

Liar. He is not just a man.

"Haven't you got like an Alpha Code forbidding you from walking shirtless in the pack house?"

He laughed, the sound deep and rich. I found myself thinking that he had a beautiful laugh. He walked towards the fridge with lazy strides, so that it was the turn of his broad back to be displayed to me.

"No," he said, while bending to inspect the contents," there is no code. Then, this is my house, I do what I want. None was bound to see me anyway, I thought the kitchen was empty."

Yeah buddy, it should had been, but here I was.

When he found what he was looking for, a carton of orange juice, he turned to reach for the cupboards, stretching out his torso. It was then that a small dot of ink caught my eye and, paying better attention, I saw a tattoo resting on his left hipbone.

In a refined and graceful calligraphy, the motto "Faber est suae quisqae fortunae" was permanently inked on his supple skin.

"I didn't know you had a tattoo."

"Yeah, I do."

He shrugged his shoulders as it was no big deal, then placed the used glass in the sink.

"Why did you choose to tattoo a motto like that on your skin?"

He leaned his back on the edge of the sink, crossing his arms on his chest in a sort of defensive manner. It was not my intention to sound judging, I was merely asking out of curiosity. More than curiosity, I was actually really interested.

"Because it's meaningful to me. It reminds me that whoever you are nothing comes to you without a price. You need to work hard, make sacrifices and be humble to make it to the top. You are the only one who can create and walk down the path of your own destiny. It depends on you, and none else. It's what guides me through with being the Alpha of this pack. I am here not because it was a right of mine. I am here because I earned it. And everyday I need to dimostrate that I am worthy of this position."

I was beginning to understand why every member of this pack looked up to Hercules as a rightful leader. His words weren't to be taken for granted. Power often went to people's head, blinding them with the lust of obtaining more and more and more. So for him to say that everyday he needed to prove himself worthy to the pack was honorable. And I found myself respecting him a bit more.

"I didn't know you knew Latin culture."

He nodded his head, making a few strands of raven hair fall on his forehead, delicately kissing his tanned skin with their smoothness.
A small smile appeared on his lips.

"Well, with a name like mine you couldn't expect anything else."

It was my time to small a little.

"So you are saying that you decided to learn an ancient culture only based on your name?"

His smile widened, reaching his eyes, deep blue pools that shone in a playful manner.

"Kind of."

"I don't believe you. Spill the tea, Hercules Thorne."

He laughed that incredibly addicting laugh of his. A laugh so deep, so intense, so real that you unwillingly found yourself laughing too. I refrained myself from doing so just in time.

"Fine. My mother is Greek. She kind of obligated me to study the story of the ancients. She wanted me to feel a sort of connection towards my European ancestors."

Damn it.
He was half European. Not only handsome, kind and seemingly responsible, but he was also exotic. Now I could see where he got his complexion and raven hair from. He must have inherited them from his mother's lineage.

"What about you? How do you know those cultures?"

A sad smile appeared on my lips. Thinking about my high school days was always painful. I was remained of everything I had lost. Like my humanity.

"Nothing major. A passion of mine during high school. I took extra classes about ancient history and cultures. Anyway, speaking about your mother, where are your parents? I don't think that I have ever seen them."

It was the first time Hercules' parents were mentioned, so I was curious to know about their whereabouts.

"In Oregon, helping my brother with Alpha's duties."

So he had a brother too. There were so many things I didn't know about him and, sadly for my well-being , I was finding out that getting to know him wasn't so terrible.

"You have a brother?"

He smiled, passing a hand through his dark mane. The action brought my attention to his bicep, that flexed in a very attractive way.

"Yes, a younger brother. Perseus."

Oh well, mum and dad surely knew how to pick names for their sons.

"You and your brother carry the name of two very famous and very strong Greek heroes."

I appreciated that his mum stayed true to her origins and named her sons after her culture. It meant she was proud of her heritage. They were both important and meaningful names and, seen that both brothers earned an Alpha title, suitable for their positions either.

"Evidently my parents had big plans for us when they named us like that."

"It seems to me that you kind of followed their plans, seen as both of you are now Alphas."

He smiled, but the way his lips were tense around the edges suggested me that it wasn't a genuine one.

"Yeah well..but as I told you, nothing comes without a price."

By the way he was currently looking at me, so intensely and deeply, I knew he was referring to me, to us, to our lack of bonding. Guilt began creeping in my mind, but I quickly turned it off. Everyone had the right to choose for themselves and I had made my choice. Right or wrong, it was a choice of mine nonetheless.

"Well, I'll leave you to your dinner. Goodnight Lara."

"Goodnight Hercules."

I nodded to him and then, casting my eyes downwards, I resumed reading the journal.

He strode out of the kitchen, his peculiar scent following his sculpted figure, leaving me alone with my dinner and my book, just like I had wished to be.

I should had been happy about him leaving me alone, but I inexplicably found myself wishing he would had stayed.

——-
Translation: " Everyone is the creator of their own destiny."

Sorry it took a bit longer than usual to publish this chapter, but I am currently busy with university and, at the same time, I am working on a new project that I hope to share with you soon enough!
I am really excited!
Anyway, your thoughts?
If you liked, vote, comment and share!
Love you,
Kate

Ps: next chapter we will have the Gala.. Drama, drama, drama! Eheheh...😏😉
What do you think will happen? Tell me!