Kingdoms of Ohm: The Lonely Dragon #1 ✓

Alpha

~ ▬ι═══════ﺤ ~

"Lykaios?"

A brave werewolf limped toward his injured alpha. His cold snout lowered to Lykaios's darkened midsection, nudging upon the ruffled shoulder abreast a brazen paw. Without any reaction to garner from him, the wolf went on.

"Are you-"

"Get off of me!" Lykaios suddenly snapped to his helper, teeth bared and red froth bubbling upon the rim of his lips. The pack shriveled back, quick to recognize his voice of vengeance rolling to the surface. Their alpha's eyes flashed hues of silver and gold, straining to fight through the glob of blood that coated his prized power. Lykaios looked injured, worn out above all else. The blood scent was a small indicator; not that he cared, the werewolf longed to step forth and face me head on, both out of wonder... and pure annoyance.

"Lykaios," the werewolf beside him began to speak again. "D-Did you see? H-He saved them-"

"Quiet!" Lykaios snarled, ripping a whimper right out of the younger creature's heart. Still holding firm before the broken nursery, I watched Lykaios stumble before me, keeping his maw pointed upward to expose his fangs. Only after a few seconds did his snarl begin to die down, noticing a few of the nursery pups still hiding out beneath my scaly underbelly. His eyes twitched.

"You think this proves anything?" the black werewolf rasped, dipping his scarred head just inches from the earth. "That a sheer act of kindness... will prove your worth?"

I narrowed my eyes, saying nothing in return.

A grin crossed Lykaios snout, his fuzzy head tilting with interest as his focus fought the fog gloating it. "You figured the old ways would protect you. But we are beyond that timeline. The only worth you'll ever serve... is beneath my shadow."

I held my growl back. Lykaios still didn't seem to care. His lust for dominance and control remained the greatest need in his life, and with my heroic act mere moments ago, his need had been challenged. Eying the drool and the rugged arch of his back was enough to remind me of his beastial wrath. Lykaios had fought hundreds of wolves who tried for his position, putting his strength and prowess above all others in Jorryn. And any deed, despite its justification, was automatically an act against the alpha. Now I was just another target in his regime, another creature to put down to empower his needs.

I looked around to the werewolves, my tail swaying to and fro in concern. I couldn't fight against a werewolf's hate through words, display, or even nobility. If I were to go home, I had to win through his ways.

Through dominance.

The same way he had done to me a week earlier.

Dipping my head to the little werewolves still beneath me, I let out a soft hiss to scare them off, leaving me alone with Lykaios in the center clearing of their province. Ignoring the wounds, the blood, and the heavy armor marked upon my hide, I slowly strolled toward the growling black werewolf, and puffed my chest out as a warning to his dominion. All that did was amuse the werewolf even further.

"Come to beg?" he huffed, swishing his furry tail from behind. My head tilted down, and a soft hiss left my jaws.

"Those who flee from submission and failure will be killed by the weight of their cowardice. But a creature who proves his worth to his captivator... can be set free."

Lykaios's face never changed form. His fur raised up on end, paws sinking into the ground with wonder.

"Words of the wise I see. And what does that mean to you?" he then asked.