Alpha Xander: His Contracted Luna

***JOSEPH FLETCHER***

A cross-eyed young boy was alone by the window of the small room. His hair was black, long, and over his eyes. The other kids were congested at the corner sleeping in their sleep-bags. The group home Mistress was in the upper room. He knew better to tap the glass aloud.

I want to be seen. I want to live with a family. A family that loves me in a home of my own.

Raindrops outside in the gloomy night. He wanted to be at the other end of the glass. Every day since he could remember, all the friends he made were chosen and raised-raised in homes away from here. He was one of the oldest little boys and the one with the least hopes of getting picked. His sad green eyes disheartened the hopeful parents.

That ginger girl in a green sweater.

His only female friend is Maurice. She was more like an annoying that stuck around him when the kids were all together. The only pair he made. Ten years in all his life, she made him crack open a smile with his dull purple lips.

Goodbye, Joe.

The last time he would see her. She was going off with the young couple. She would live a better life in the parts of the city. The group home was all Joe knew. The coffee shop out front was the only imagination of the outside world. He didn’t believe the stories read in the books. He wanted to live it to believe it.

Don’t be stuck on those silly stories. They are not real.

Go away you freak!

His hopes of getting adopted were tarnished every day. He made no smile or laugh like the other children. The mistress was fed up with his bleakness. She often left him in the upper room when the parents arrived. The soon-to-be parents. The young adults and the old adults alike. The adults who were desperate to have children.

He peeped down on a hole in the floor. A man came in one day. Earlier than the other parents. He was alone with no partner. He was in a monochrome grey suit. His hair was finely cut with a clean shaved beard. The Mistress was hovering about him to check out the kids all lined out in their neatest clothes. Joseph was spotted in the ceiling.

He crawled away from the hole as the man pointed up at him. His breaths quickened by the abrupt surprise. He crept into the mistress’s closet when her door creaked open. Long pointy boots thumped the wooden floorboards.

She opened her closet, “Here you are you little freak!”

She dragged him out by the ear and shoved him to the floor. He bruised his knee and slowly moved to the posters on the wall. He knew what was coming next. She would have him locked in a box after having to endure a long spank.

“You think Master Marion would come here for a little squirm like you?” she scowled stabbing her finger on his forehead.

“Indeed I will,” a brazen tone said by the door.

The mister stepped back. She held her hand behind her back and rescinded to her closet.

“I-I thought you left Sir?” she agitated clinging to the drawer of her closet.

“I will have this boy leave with me this instance,” Mr. Marion demanded.

Joe had his hopes restored. The first time in his life he wasn’t seen as a freak. He was taken up by the gentleman. The man handed him a plain cloth to care for the bruise on his knee.

The mistress hit her back on the closet, and an old man fell on her face. She pulled it off her face. Joe and Mr. Marion were gone. She ran to the door and kicked over an envelope left on the ground. She turned back to pick it up.

By the time she unsealed the parcel, the sound of engines started roaring outside the group home. She ran down the steps, stuffing the wad of cash in her deep pockets. She got downstairs and all the kids had their eyes peeled on the glass.

Outside was Joe, right next to Mr. Marion in the blue Bentley outside on the side of the road. She opened the door of the group to step out, the car drove off leaving a puff of exhaust fume in her face.

***EIGHT YEARS LATER***

Young master Marion dragged the curtains to the side. His face was bright and yellow like the sun. He went out on the balcony. His father was down in the courtyard talking with a beta. Older master Marion looked up at him and whistled.

“Come down here boy. I want to show you something.”

“Yes father, I will be right down.”

Xander rushed down the steps. His heart was joyful. He had been inside all day. And all he wanted was to be of use to his father. This could be his moment to engage with the other wolves. He opened the door of the Manor. He was stunned watching his father beating down on the beta.Content property of NôvelDra/ma.Org.

He hit his head on the fountain. The beta’s blood smeared all over the crevice. Xander was horrified by this gruesome sight. He had seen his father spar with the other wolves but this was brutal to watch. The beta was weak on the ground. Older master Marion laid a foot over the beta’s chest and looked over at Xander.

“What are you waiting for?” James stomped on the beta. “Come here.”

“What is going on father?” Xander ambled to his father’s side.

James took Xander by the hand and gave him a switchblade, “You have come of age,” James narrowed his eyes at his son. “This is the time to continue as the man you were meant to be-a wolf.”

The beta breathed slowly on the ground in pain. Xander was scared. He wasn’t a little kid anymore. He knew what his father wanted him to do. He grasped the switchblade and kneeled on the beta’s chest. He looked into the sorrow of the young man who always ran errands for his father. A close mentor of his.

“I am sorry Henry,” Xander muttered.

He plunged the knife into the beta’s chest. James backed away slowly as the beta took his last breath. Xander rose to his feet and stood over Henry’s body. His eyes were darkened. He had done this and was promised a blessing.

“You have finally embraced your destiny young one,” James held an arm above Xander’s shoulder.

“What does this mean father?” Xander inhaled sharply dropping the switchblade to the ground.

“A werewolf was born today,” his father breathed into his ear.

If this was the path to his destiny, he despised it so much. His fate was decided without a cause. James wanted Xander to carry on his legacy. Not by blood but by loyalty. Xander didn’t want to be a werewolf this way. His heart ached. His arms trembled. He stuck his hands into his side pockets. It would be a shame if his father saw his weakness and remorse.

***FEW NIGHTS AGO***

On the night of the full moon. His father led him into the woods. The manor had just celebrated the young master’s 18th birthday at midday. The young Marion was exposed to the life of the wolves since the first night his father brought him over. The manor was the biggest building he’d ever seen.

He ate the most he’d eaten in a week back at the group home. He was tucked in tight with a kiss on his cheeks by the maiden-Maria. He slept like a newborn. His eyes burst wide open and his ears were flared up by the howling of the wolves.

He rushed to the window and watched the most incredible thing. He saw his father walk like a human on his two legs, and go down to his knees, shape-shifting into a seven-foot-long wolf. His father leaped over the fountain and ran fast into the fields. At the time, he had not come to the knowledge of Alpha’s transforming at will.

Back to the night of his birthday. The Alpha pack was locked down in the basement. Xander was curious about what was going on. He had never come to light of the moon curse. The turning. The long-suffering of the wolves once every month in the full moon.

His father just kept walking. He darted his eyes forward. Deeper and deeper into the trees. James stopped by a tree and held his hand against a bark. Xander was concerned and inched forward to check on his father.

“Stay back!” James grunted, lowering to the ground.

“Father… I am going to get help,” Xander panted.

“You are not going anywhere boy,” James snapped.

He noticed the glimmer in his father’s eyes. His instinct was to run back to the gates of the Manor. His heartbeats were fast and rampant.

“I don’t understand father,” Xander breathed heavily. “What is going on?”

His father pointed in the opposite direction of the manor gates, “Run where I point,” he groaned. ‘If you go back to the gates, I will strike you down and kill you on the spot. Now run!”

Xander’s body made a fast reaction into the thick forest. It was dark and impervious. The clothes on his arms and legs were ripped by the thorns. He heard growling behind him. Fats pace in this endangered race.

He felt paws on his back pushing him to the ground. His back hurt. Like a heavy load on him, a werewolf stood over him. Xander cried out when he felt teeth biting into his arm. He passed out due to the immense pain.