Bygone Love For The Alpha

Going back to the Red Moon Pack for my great-grandmother's funeral was tough. Losing Momo was hard, but dealing with the unwelcoming attitude of the werewolves in my Pack was even harder. They treated us, the omegas, differently, and it was all because we were witches. They didn't see our contributions as valuable. In the Pack, it's mainly the werewolves who are appreciated for their skills. They contribute a lot to the community. As witches, we're encouraged to pursue medical roles to help treat injuries and create healing potions. Despite our efforts over the centuries, we've yet to receive the recognition we deserve, and this isn't just a problem in the Red Moon Pack, it's a widespread issue. Despite the Alpha's policies against discrimination, we still faced teasing and bullying. This constant harassment was why I left the Pack and sought work in the human world. Of course, my true identity remains a secret among my human colleagues. To them, I'm just another one of them, but to the werewolves, I'm still seen as 'useless' like any other human. In the city, I've built a career as a researcher in a pharmaceutical company. After leaving the Pack, I pursued my bachelor's degree, and then I was offered a full scholarship for my master's. It was an opportunity I couldn't pass up. Now, having completed my master's, I'm fully committed to my job. I've established a comfortable life in the city with close friends and my cat, Pixie, as my companion. Despite these new comforts, I still miss my family, who've chosen to stay in our ancestral homeland in the Pack. I've invited them countless times to join me in the city, but their attachment to tradition keeps them rooted there. While I don't hate the Pack, there's a definite unease. It's not about disdain. I feel homesick for my family and the familiarity of our home. However, I don't have warm feelings for the individuals within the Pack. It's been eight years since I left, going from a nineteen-year-old student to a twenty-seven-year-old woman. I've made occasional visits back, but my last return four years ago for Ezra's wedding, the Alpha's son, was one of the most emotionally draining days of my life. Love. It's a force that can both lift us and pull us apart. In my story, it did a bit of both. You see, Ezra was at the heart of it all for me. Even now, I still hold a special place for him. But our love story was written in the stars, bound by two unyielding truths. First, there was the gaping divide in our social standing. Ezra, destined to become Alpha, and I, a modest witch, are worlds apart in our Pack's hierarchy. The idea of an Alpha entwined with a witch would've scandalized our community. Then there was the fact that Ezra's feelings for me were those of deep friendship and respect, not the fiery passion I harbored for him. Ezra, Alpha Leo, and Luna Dawn's firstborn had a brother named Harry. They are a small family of four. Their family showed unparalleled kindness to us witches. They never treated us as lesser, even if the broader community might have frowned upon them. Alpha Leo didn't care about the whispers. He even apologized countless times when I faced bullying. Ezra, my steadfast protector, shielded me from taunts, whether in the halls of our school or on the streets. That's how our bond grew, and that's how my heart's journey began. It wasn't a sudden flood of emotions. It was a gradual surge, a growing tide of feelings. Ezra started as my closest companion, a silent guard against pain. He was my rock in the storm, my confidant through thick and thin. He was my true friend, the pillar of my world. Yet, in my heart, I nurtured a love that would turn our beautiful friendship into something complex and, ultimately, heartrending. I always held onto a glimmer of hope, hoping against all reason that he might come to love me as deeply as I loved him. It was a foolish dream, really. In the world of werewolves, such a transformation of feelings, especially for male wolves, just didn't happen. After all, they were destined for their mates. Deep down, I understood that I could never be Ezra's mate. Yet, as a teenage girl, I dared to hope that maybe fate would have a change of heart, that Ezra would be so enraptured by me that he'd forsake the mate chosen for him by the Goddess. How naive I was. The truth of my folly hit me like a ton of bricks. My Pack wasn't too distant from my city. I could've opted for a bus or even a train, but I chose a solitary road trip back to my Pack. A ten-hour drive through winding roads and rolling hills. With breaks for rest, refreshment, and necessities, the journey extended to nearly a day. Eventually, I eased my grey Kia Soul into the heart of my Pack's territory. The damp forest was guarded by vigilant wolves, their eyes keenly focused on my approaching vehicle. At the checkpoint, I was met by a familiar face, one that sent shivers down my spine. Caleb Mullis. The epitome of an insufferable jerk. Out he came, squinting at my car. The chill in the air didn't seem to faze him, despite the looming promise of snow on these once-green hills. He was shirtless, clad only in sweatpants, while I snug in my sweater, had the car's heater working at full blast. Dirt speckled his upper body, undoubtedly from a recent run. It had been four years since I last saw him, and even then, we hadn't exchanged a word. Thank the heavens for that stroke of luck. Yet, this time, it seemed luck was in short supply, as he drew nearer to the driver's seat. He'd grown, towering over his former self. Damp tendrils of brown hair hinted at a recent dip in the river. That familiar smug look played on his lips, just as it had in our younger days. He was Caleb Mullis, the sole scion of Beta Sam Mullis. Spoiled, a bit of a brat, and my tormentor. Regrettably, he was also Ezra's closest companion. I never quite understood why Ezra chose to associate with this jerk, but they were inseparable. Caleb would never bully me when Ezra was around, contenting himself with harmless teasing that Ezra always curbed. He was never cruel, yet the constant taunting weighed on me. It was even worse knowing he'd been privy to my crush on Ezra long before I mustered the courage to confess. I lived in dread that he might spill the secret, though thankfully, he never did. He chuckled, eyeing my car with amusement. Clearly, immaturity was still his forte. I rolled my eyes and rolled down the window as he approached. Crouching, he peered inside, his eyes narrowing. When I finally turned to meet his gaze, they widened, a slow smirk unfurling on his face. "Oh my God, is that you, Yoyo?" he chuckled. The nickname dates back to middle school when yoyos were my obsession. I shot him a withering glare. "I see your brain's grown a whole inch since then, Caleb." He chortled, patting the front of my modest car. "Nice ride, Yoyo." His tone was ripe with mockery. In a Pack that favored Jeeps and dirt bikes, my choice of vehicle was bound to elicit some ridicule. I offered a dismissive smile. "Thanks, I bought it with my own hard-earned cash. How's your baby?" I gestured to his beloved Jeep, a vehicle he guarded zealously, denying even Ezra the privilege of driving it. "Dad still footing the bill?" The nearby men chuckled softly, appreciating the jab. Caleb seemed amused by my comeback, chewing gum with a smirk. He sighed, straightening up and patting my car's roof. "Go on. You're clear to head in. Welcome back, Yoyo," he teased. I rolled my eyes, ready to drive off, when he stopped me. "Oh, and sorry about Momo," he said, surprising me. I hadn't expected any condolences from him.