Twisted Mates

The entire Blue Moon Packhouse was on fire. Bodies littered like the messy deeds of a child. This was unfair. A total massacre by the Blood Moon Pack. The attack led by the leader of the Blood Moon Pack, Alpha Hero Ian, was unreasonable and a show-off of his power.

"Kill whatever that has life in it! Spread the fear!" The 6ft string man had roared to his followers, charging them more to carry on with their madness.

Cries of the innocent and vulnerable were heard. It sounded like animals in pain. Of course, they were in pain. Children, men, and women were all killed. Houses were set on fire and every other thing brought to the ground.

Alpha Hero stood firm, still maintaining his human form, with his son Dante by his side. Both watched the entire place burn to ashes.

Alpha Hero's pack was much stronger. Half of his army was made up of Alphas and Betas. Why won't they win, since they were battling the omegas? The bitches and everyone's enemy.

The little boy, Dante, watched with unease, his golden hair curly atop and his blue eyes glistening with moisture. He was uncomfortable watching the chaos.

His father noticed that he was closing his eyes, a way to block out all the chaos and unease. Hero bent to Dante's level so that he was on eye level with him.

"Son, one day my reign will come to an end, and you are the rightful person to sit on the throne. A weak King can never survive. This is a way of molding you into a strong man. Forge you with fire and, from the ashes of the Blue Moon Pack, born you anew." Gripping his left shoulder, "I want you to watch. Open your eyes!" He commanded, and the poor, shivering boy jerked his eyes open. "Dante, you must watch until the end. Witness the supremacy of a great king like me," he said proudly.

Satisfied that Dante was watching the sight even if it wanted to make the seven-year-old boy, puke. Hero stood once more and rose his blade.

By now, they had wiped out the entire packhouse, leaving only metals, ashes, and smoke. The wailing and crying had died down and everywhere was like the early hours of a big city when everyone was still asleep.

"You hear that, son? That is the sound of victory." Hero proclaimed.

His men began to circle him, chanting victory in unison. Blood dripping from their swords, the corners of their mouth, their protruding fangs and claws. Some of them were still in their wolf form, while others had turned into humans.

"Today," Alpha Hero began. His voice rumbled like thunder. His stand was firm, and his hazel eyes were sharp and alert. "Today, you have marked a new era in my reign."

The soldiers cheered happily before keeping quiet.

"You showed the rest of the packs that there is no room for the weak and vulnerable. Only the strong have a place in the wolf kingdom. . ." Alpha Hero continued his victory speech while his bored and uninterested son slipped out.

Dante had no idea where he was headed or why he left the safety of his people, but a tiny voice kept calling him.

Among the rubble and lifeless bodies, the boy scrunched his nose and kept following that small, faint voice in pain until he arrived at a heap load of bodies. A sight too ugly to behold, he could no longer hold back the contents in his stomach. He hurled everything out to the floor, almost puking his life out. When he was sure that nothing else except his heart remained in his system, he turned to leave. Why was he drawn here? Who owned that voice?

"Help me," the small voice shrieked again. You could tell that whosoever that owned it, was using her last strength to speak. "H-help-me," it stammered, the voice becoming more real and audible.

"Who is there? Show yourself!" Scared, Dante shouted as he took unsteady steps back, away from the pile of bodies before him.

A shaking, small hand stretched from the pile of bodies. From the looks of it, it belonged to a child. Bruised, weak and almost pale.

Shooting to his feet, Dante scrambled to the hideous scene and began moving the bodies to the best of his ability. He was not just moving the bodies, he was crying, wailing and hyperventilating. If his father could see this, it would not go unpunished. He desperately wanted to rescue whosoever that was trapped there.

After tirelessly trying his best to keep it together, he succeeded in pulling the hand until the entire body of a small girl came.

The little girl was barely alive. Covered in spatters of blood and stains of ashes, making it difficult to differentiate between her original skin color and that which all the dirt has left on her.

"Are you alright?" Dante asked, his voice betraying his confidence.

Shit! That was a stupid question to ask, but, Dante had no idea what else to ask. Of course, the girl wasn't alright. She looked limp and the blood drained. It was difficult to tell if she was injured.

"Hey, boy! What are you doing there?" A harsh voice asked from behind, Dante had his back to the man questioning him and at the same time, he was thinking so fast about what to answer. He couldn't make it look like he had just rescued the child of an enemy or else, he might be severed the same punishment as a traitor.

"There is someone here. I think one of the weakening survived," he said sharply, desperate to protect himself and, somehow, protect the girl.

As soon as the man saw Dante's face, he bowed. "I am sorry, your Majesty. I didn't realize it was you. What are you doing in the open? You could have endangered yourself," the man ranted fast, baring his fangs and changing his upper body into his wolf.

He stepped forward and made Dante stay behind him. He only relaxed when he saw that it was nothing more than a child. Abruptly, he changed back to his human form.

"The Alpha must see this. He is the one to pass the final judgment."

As the man led the little girl away, she said with her mind, "help me," which only Dante could somehow hear her even without her talking.

Her eyes were weak and almost closing, but pleading with Dante as tears streamed through her frail face. She was frightened and sobbing like an injured pup.

"I want my mommy," she finally protested, trying to get away from the man's firm hold.

The man ignored her pleas and wails, dragging her away like a piece of rag.