Alpha by Sophie Fleur Page A

would eventually
have to marry and sire heirs. It was his duty as the Alpha.
     
    Wolves didn’t have a high rate of conception. One in three
pregnancies survived to term. Of those, only a handful of children survived
birth and the first few months of their lives. It was every wolf’s duty to have
children, whether they wanted to or not.
     
    Even if Fred had been willing to endure that, the fact remained that
he was human. Wolves did not mate humans. Ever. Not if they wanted to remain
part of their packs. Something about diluting bloodlines. Fred had never really
asked. He hadn’t wanted to know the answers.
     
    After half an hour of walking and dragging his duffel, Fred was
sweating and shaking. He reconsidered his decision to go home without calling
his father to pick him up. His father would have met him at the bus stop and
talked his ear off. He was still mad about the way Fred had left. Fred couldn’t
blame him. Maybe he’d stay in the woods and make camp. He could live like a
caveman, killing for food and getting rid of all his pants.
     
    No pants sounded good to his sweaty body.
     
    He was contemplating his bag and how much he could throw out of
it to reduce the weight when he felt something strange. He paused, listening.
No birds. No squirrels. He couldn’t even hear the sound of the wind.
     
    He dug into his duffel bag for the bone knife his father had
given him when he’d started learning to hunt. It fit into the palm of his hand.
The leather of the handle was smooth against his skin. He held it at his side,
ready. Could be a bear or one of those wild pigs. They rarely attacked but
maybe he’d stumbled into a den.
     
    A wolf appeared. It wasn’t anyone Fred recognized. Not that he’d
know any new wolves anyway. Only James had shown Fred his wolf.
     
    This wolf stood tall enough to look Fred in his eyes. It had
rusted red colored fur and white on the tip of one ear. All the wolves were
fairly large. Fred was used to being around them, but not alone. Alone was
different. Alone wasn’t safe. He tried to keep calm. Wolves liked calm. If he
ran, the wolf would definitely attack him.
     
    “I’m a friend of the pack,” Fred said. “I’m Doctor Awley’s son.
I’m your friend.”
     
    The wolf lifted his lip in a snarl. He growled, low and
threatening. The sound came from deep in the wolf’s chest. Fred felt it echo in
his own chest. His hands shook as he realized he might have to actually try and
fight this thing.
     
    Okay, so I’m not his friend then.
     
    “I’ll leave. We don’t have to fight,” Fred said.
     
    The wolf lunged for Fred’s throat. Fred slashed out with his
knife, slicing a line across the wolf’s nose. The wolf howled and lunged again,
snapping at the arm that held the knife.
     
    The pain was sharp and hungry. Fred didn’t let go of the knife.
His father had taught him that.
     
    Never let go of your weapon when fighting something bigger and
stronger.
     
    He could feel the wolf’s hot breath on his face. Small drops of
the wolf’s saliva dripped down onto his cheeks as Fred held the beast off.
     
    He was going to die here in the woods like a deer. He’d seen how
wolves ate. They left nothing behind. This big bastard was going to eat him and
no one would ever know what happened to him. He was Little Red Riding Hood.
     
    Fred’s arms started to weaken. The wolf’s fangs were closer. He
couldn’t use the knife. The wolf was too close. He thought maybe he could push
the wolf away and gouge out an eye. They could heal an injury like that, but it
would take time.
     
    “I am not your dinner!” Fred pushed as hard as he could. The
wolf barely moved.
     
    He saw something move out of the corner of his eye. The shape
got bigger and bigger until it jumped, hitting the other wolf square in the
chest. The pressure left and Fred could breathe again.
     
    Fred knew that wolf. It was James. He was even bigger than the
other wolf and had dark salt and pepper fur. Wolf James