The Alpha and the Outcast (BoyxBoy/LGBT)

Hello to whoever's reading this- this is my first attempt at a werewolf story, but I must have read at least a hundred boyxboy werewolf stories before, so I'll try to make this as original as possible as well. This is only the prologue, the rest of the chapters will hopefully be longer.

This is dedicated to PrinceKenzie because she is an amazing writer. I've read every single one of her books, and I'd definitely recommend them!

Hope you like the prologue, and maybe leave me a vote/comment (pretty please ;))

Pic is of Nicholas

"What d'ya think you're doin'? This's illegal, I ain't done nothing- this's assault!," screamed the dark-haired, highly dishevelled man, clad in stained clothes and reeking of alcohol.

The young police officer, one of the two who had been landed with the job of dragging the dishevelled man from his run-down house, simply shook his head, obviously beginning to get annoyed. "No, Mr Clancy, this isn't assault. One would think you would know the difference, that being what we are arresting you for and everything."

"I dunno what you're talking 'bout!," slurred Edward Clancy, "I ain't never assaulted nobody! Who told ya I did? Was it the boy, that ungrateful, good-for-nothing little..."

The police officer cut Edward off mid-tirade. "Sir, the accusations were made by a Mr Robert Lucas. He says you knocked him out in a club bathroom two weeks ago and gave him a severe concussion. He also tipped us off about you having illegal drugs in your possession. I'm not sure which boy you mean- your son, perhaps, Nicholas, isn't it?"

Edward Clancy curled his upper lip in a disgusted sneer, before spitting a glob of saliva onto the footpath. The young police officer shuddered, as did his older partner who had a firm grip on Mr Clancy's other arm.

"That boy ain't no son of mine, disgusting little faggot that he is. Boy ain't nothing but a waste of life."

Gritting his teeth to keep himself from punching the man, the young officer glanced up and down the narrow, run-down street, hoping to find a distraction. The very last thing the young officer needed was for his partner to report him for assaulting a suspect. Laying eyes on the slight figure leaning against an old blue pick-up truck less than a hundred meters away, the officer knew he'd found it.

The boy was obviously Edward Clancy's son, that much was clear from the similarity of the shapes of their faces right down to the unnerving piercing blue of their eyes. The boy, presumably young Nicholas Clancy, couldn't have been older than sixteen, seventeen at most, and was absent-mindedly raking his sandy-blond locks off his forehead as he watched his father being dragged away. His expression was twisted in what was clearly bitterness and grim delight, his blue eyes burning with cold hatred. His slim frame was only accentuated by the old baggy clothes that hung on him- jeans too long for his short height and an oversized zip-up hoodie with sleeves that fell to his fingertips. Obviously things weren't the best at home, not that the officer would be very surprised. A fresh bloody gash marred Nicholas' defined cheekbone, surrounded by a deep purple bruise, yet the boy didn't seem to really register the pain the injuries had to be causing him.

As the young police officer watched, a battered-looking Audi groaned to a halt beside the police car. Two teenagers about the same age as Nicholas- a short, skinny girl with long dark braids and a taller, rather muscular blond boy- leapt out of the car and raced up to the boy, stopping about two feet away. The officer thought this seemed strange, but then again living with Edward Clancy's volatile temper for numerous years had probably just given the kid a newfound respect for personal space.