My Fated One

ALPHA’S SON

POV (THOMAS)

I could hear the shouts and yells from the square as I scratched out another day's worth of school work. It was hopeless, I would never get in. No matter how much I studied or tried, the results would still be the same. The Academy would never admit one that was so inadequate, inept, clumsy and most likely never meant to step foot on a battlefield. Dear god, how would I tell him? How would I break the horrible news to a man who only believed worth was dictated by the amount of power and influence one had? I was starting to see why the Livingstone children disgusted him so. It was not because they were unworthy of the gift, it was because I was. All the hatred and aggression he showed them was just because he could never dream of striking me. His firstborn, his male heir, and his proof that our family name would stand the test of time.

"How unfortunate for Uncle Alpha to sire such a disappointment."

"Yes, I couldn't agree more, if only he had given birth to you!" I snarled, as my quill snapped in two, for the bane of my existence was now perched on my window sill like an annoying chirping bird.

"Oh calm down my Lord, it's not my fault your face speaks so loudly." He said, as he jumped down and landed with such confidence it was hard to not be envious. I watched as his golden eyes quickly scanned the mess of words and jumbled letters that made up my essay on military tactics. It was another failure. I did not need our resident moonlight wolf to tell me that.

"You do know you have misspelled almost 50 words in a 100 word essay. I could be overstepping, but you might want to check into that dear cousin."

"Why are you here? To gloat? To rub it in? Do tell me, so I can contain my excitement about whatever it is you have come up with in that twisted mind of yours." I snarled, as I crunched my paper between my fists. Damn him, why was he always getting under my skin? Why could I never remain calm and measured when he was around? It wasn’t like we were on bad terms, or I despised him. In all honesty, he was a decent enough friend, if I could call him that. But sadly, he was also a frustrating reminder of how far down I was in the grand scheme of things. Why the hell did we have to be related?

"It wasn't that bad Thomas. I did like the part about damming up the river to flood out the enemy. Unfortunately, that location you chose is going through a bit of a drought this season, so you might want to..."

"Dear gods Lucas! Whatever do you want?"

Silence. He was quiet, in a way that caused the hairs on the back of neck to stand on end.

"I need your help, Thomas."

"You need my what?" I could hardly believe it. In the twelve years I had known Lucas Livingstone, not once. Not a single instance had he ever used that tone of voice or said those kinds of words to anyone. He was a Moonlight-Touched wolf. A werewolf that could harness the ley lines and cast magic like the greatest world witches of our time. He was destined to be a captain or general of the royal guard, or a Duke or King of a country. Nothing was outside the realm of possibilities for him, and no one would ever be able to hold him back from his goals. At least that was what everyone believed. Unfortunately, there was one exception, one weakness that could bring my dear cousin to his knees.

"Abelia. I have to leave her behind, but I fear if I do so your Father will kill her."

There it was, his Achilles heel, his weak spot, the one thing that could bring our most powerful young warrior crashing down. Abelia, his baby sister.

From the moment she was born, his life was forever changed. Gone were his heroic aspirations of grandeur and excitement at using his powers and abilities to help the world. Instead, what I saw, what he became, was a wounded vengeful creature that turned inward and morphed into something dark and frightening. It was as if he grew up overnight and, oddly enough, who could blame him? His mother, my father's younger sister, died bringing that girl into the world. Which in turn set his Father, one of our most influential healers, on a course straight to his own demise. Leaving young Lucas and baby Abelia all alone.

Under any other circumstances, the pack would have jumped in to aid the orphans, but because of Abelia they could not. Or maybe it was better to say they would not dare do so. For her very existence broke the code, the rules, that had been set for centuries. That there would, and could, only be one moonlight wolf. And yet when she opened her eyes for the first time and revealed those golden glowing irises, everyone knew exactly what she was. And this was not acceptable.

I'm certain no one had ever seen my Father so furious or blood thirsty after he heard the news, that once again he had been rejected by the gods. Here he had a son and a daughter, and both had been passed over and not given the gift. Instead, two moonlight wolves were born from the same family, from the same line, and who carried our blood but they were not his children. Everyone knew that if the parents hadn't died, my Father would have found a way to get rid of them, even if that meant killing his own sister. Because only with them gone would he have complete control over the Livingstone siblings. However, there was one flaw in his plan, a glaring miscalculation no one would have ever accounted for and that was Lucas.

Lucas Livingston, was and is by all accounts a genius. Even when Abelia was just a few hours old, he already knew at the age of two what had to be done. I am sure no one would, or could, ever forget the night my Father tried to take Abelia away from him. The words he said, in a voice that commanded authority, could have never come from the mind of a child. To this day, many have wondered if Moonlight Wolves are not just magically inclined but are actually something else, something akin to a god.

I was only four at the time, two years older than Lucas the night the sky turned red and orange. I can still recall the smell of fire and brimstone as if the gates of hell had been unleashed on the world, but the demons this time carried my blood. It was humiliating for everyone involved but also terrifying.

"I dare you to touch that which is mine and think for a second I will not remove you from this world!"

Two, he was two years old when he said that in a sea of flames that he created around him and his baby sister’s crib. The frightening thing was Abelia did not cry out, or seem to have any discomfort from the heat, but instead her eyes glowed almost as if she were the one who had cast the flames. From that moment on, my Father feared them and so too did everyone else. And that was the way we lived, my Father on edge and Lucas always ready to fight to the death to defend what was his. Until now.

"He is not going to kill her, Lucas. I can promise you that." I said, knowing my words most likely would not comfort him but enrage him.

"How can you say that? I have racked my brain on what your Father wants and each time I come up empty. How in the world do you know what a mad man thinks or feels when you yourself are not mad?" He snapped, as he ran his hands through his white blonde hair. He did have a point. I was the mad man’s flesh and blood and even I could not wager a guess on what transpired inside his head.

"Lucas, relax." I said, as I smiled slightly at his discomfort. "Abelia is ten years old, the same age as Annabella. There is no way he could bring himself to harm her."

"Yes Thomas, right now she is ten, a child, an innocent little niece. But what happens when she eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen? What then?"

"I don't understand, you at all cousin? What do those ages have to do with anything?" What in the world was this? Why was he so fixated on such things?

"Are you really so blind that you can't read between the lines? Age, has everything to do with it when it comes to the Crown Prince."

"The crown? What in the world are you talking….”

"The Hunt, Thomas! The bloody hunt! The royal section! What happens when Abelia is of age, when nothing your father does can keep her hidden? All young she-wolves from the Alpha families are forced into the selection, but only one from that family is chosen. Do you honestly believe your sister from that main family can beat mine?" Lucas, said with smirk that made my blood run cold and heart stop.

Of course, Abelia was a female from a reputable family and not only that she was a Moonlight-Touch wolf, which meant no matter who was put in front of the Prince, the King would want her as his son’s mate. And this would upset the order, the balance. For the very purpose of the selection was to even out the power of the officials, the Alphas of the land against the King. By allowing one to connect with the royal family each generation, thus keeping the crown's power in check.

However, Abelia was different. She was not an Alpha’s daughter, meaning their union would do nothing to help the balance. It actually would be extremely detrimental because she would be competing with Annabella and many other she-wolves of high-powered Alphas. And once word got out that she was born from our pack, and that my Father was responsible for her day in court, we would be doomed, since moonlight woves did not belong to a pack but to the King. Thus, the other packs would decimate us politically and economically, so this occurrence would never happen again. Yet, because our Moonlight Pack is the only one that can raise healers, the King would certainly take it upon himself to save us. But why? Why would he save my family when he could kill two birds with one stone by making Lucas Alpha. This would in turn solve the issue of Abelia's standing. For if Abelia's brother was the Alpha it would mean she would have the right bloodline to be queen and the other packs would be left with no choice but to accept her. No! No, this must never happen. No wonder Father wanted her dead, even now I wanted her gone. Gone far, far away from any prying eyes that could cause my family to...

"Whats that damn look for, cousin?" Lucas growled, as the setting sun began to play with his shadow, causing it to stretch across my bedroom wall like a looming menace. Foreshadowing the horrors that were bound to come.

“Lucas." I laughed, trying to clear the air. "Please, you can trust me."I know my Father, as long as Abelia’s secret remains a secret she will be...”

“How dare you!” He snarled, causing me to quickly shut my mouth. “Abelia is one of a kind. If you think for a moment I will accept her becoming a caged animal or a living doll, that he can just go and check in on whenever it pleases him, you are dead wrong!”

"Then what are you saying? What do you want?” I could feel a coldness in his stance, in his eyes. Gone was the twelve-year-old boy I ran around with who teased me about my poor grades. No, in front of me was a golden-eyed reaper that would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Even if it meant the complete annihilation of my family.