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Chapter Three: Finding the Wolf

Six years ago

Alcinder

Luke, the son of my Father's Beta has been able to transform into a wolf since we were twelve. I am fifteen and unable to do the same. I do not understand why this has to happen to me. I was beginning to have some sort of hope since the day of Elektra's vision, but why is it taking so long. I am the next in line to be Alpha. Do not forsake me, the moon goddess.  I have been trained my whole life for this only to be a failure. It isn't fair.

“Alcinder! Your father requests your presence at the council room”. Someone announced behind the door whilst knocking.

“immediately!”.

A summons to the council room is either a good or bad thing. My inability to transform has been of great worry to my parents and the entire council as a whole. I am certain that some of them are grateful for my failures as they have been eyeing the title. 

I grab my black shirt and throw it over my grey sweatshirt, arranging my hair in the mirror. What's the use of being 5'11 at fifteen, having ocean blue eyes, and feeling worthless? I don't think I'm the only one that feels like trash but has the looks of Adonis.

As I head to the council room, the entire packhouse is eerily quiet. Not a soul is found anywhere, apart from the guards at their spot.

I was expecting the council room to be filled to the brim, but it's not. Just the seven council members dressed in all black sitting in the imperial hall in their usual circle.

I begin to count the statues of Lycans and the moon goddess in the council room. I feel so insignificant. I shake off that feeling of insignificance. I am the proud son of Fenrir and a direct descendant of Alparo the great, nothing can break me.

“Alcinder, Son of Alpha stone Fenrir. Please step into the circle. The pack's healer will access you”. The first council leader, Davien spoke in a commanding manner. 

I got up and approached the circle with the confidence of a king, and stood in the circle looking at Elder Davien straight in the eye.

The scrawny-looking healer with one blind eye approached me and held my right hand. He begins haphazardly chanting inaudible words and phrases. The healer wobbled his head back and forth, then he finally released me and faced the council.

The healer began speaking in a deep, creepily calm voice, too deep for that body.

Here is the verdict for the council. Alcinder, son of Alparo, has the pure blood of Alparo flowing in his veins. He is a werewolf by blood but not of spirit. He has no lycanthrope in him. In simple terms, his wolf is missing”.

 With the final words, the council began to debate with themselves. My mother looked frantic and worried, she was discreetly signaling me to keep calm in sign language. She used to be a deaf instructor.  

“so, what are we to do with the boy? He can't find a mate without a wolf to talk more or lead a pack.” the second elder questioned. The council was thrown into an uproar of chaos, doubts, and questions.

I stood there, head hung low as people who knew nothing about debate and argued about my life like I wasn't there.

I tried to speak but no one was paying attention. So, I yelled.

“Can you all just SHUT UP?”. The council went into a pin drop silence, looking at themselves in utter confusion.

“You have no right to speak about me like I am a piece of trash about to be discarded. Whispering among yourselves like children instead of brainstorming about the issue like MATURED MEN”.

My voice echoed in every corner of the hall, I did not know I could be this loud. 

 “My name is Alcinder, Son of Fenrir, a true descendant of the pure blood of Alparos. I swear before the moon goddess, the lycanthropes, and every living thing thereof, by the Gods, I WILL FIND MY WOLF and rule Alparo. For Alparo.”

As I ended my oath, I walked out on the council members and out of the hall with their mouths agape in utter disbelief. 

Velda kept thinking aloud in her room.

“Can you believe that little pest? After everything I have done to get that throne”. 

My daring vixen, you worry too much, relax, baby!”. Her husband cooed to her.

She wasn't in the mood to be cooed or appreciated. She was livid and irritated.

She felt that she had been living in her brother's shadow all her life, just because she was female. Never was her opinion or voice ever considered, not even once. She lived in pain and agony despite her hard work and efforts to prove herself worthy of being Alpha. She felt that the reason they didn't allow her to fight for the title although there were twins was that they deemed her unworthy.

Now his puny little son, Alcinder or whatever jargon he bears wants a title she craved for. 

Velda sensed she'd been put on the sideline for years, belittled for more than decades, even an Angel would be triggered by such acts.

Velda swore that either she will rule over Alparo as the Prime Alpha or nobody else will. That or she dies fighting or trying.

Her mate kept pacing around the room without his feet touching the ground, he was thinking. Her Vampire King.

He came over to Velda and massaged her shoulders.

“Argh!!!! Salvatore! You know the spot”. She half moaned.

“You worry too much, Vixen. I should be the only one that troubles you this much”. He retorted, placing featherlike kisses on her neck.

“Are you jealous?”.

“Yes, I am deeply green-eyed that I am not the reason for your troubles. My alluring fox”. He spun her on the seat face to face. Salvatore grabbed her face and loosened her red hair from its tight bun. Her long fluffy hair cascaded down to her thighs.

“I'll need your palatable hair splayed everywhere for what we are about to do next”. He whispered into Velda's hair.

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