ALPHA RAY
Year 2006
(Winter, The Howling Five Kingdom)
The young prince gurgled his screams. "Why are you doing this to me?" He wriggled, kicked and punched in fierce desperation, all to free himself. He must free himself. If he gets consumed by the dark whims, his father would have to kill him, then what would become of him, of his family? He can't stop. Come on—pull harder! Get yourself free, Ray!
"Deity's arse!" The werewolf pinning Ray's arms grunted at Mozzo, "why's he getting stronger?"
Mozzo couldn't believe his eyes too. The useless flamingo was fighting back like a true wolf. A true Alpha. Maybe he was right: this is wrong, and the hands of the Goddess are intervening to stop this.
The looks of his mutts were advising him the same thing.
"I'm not wrong. He deserves this," rebutted the bully, his bitterness embroiled with his rage, clouding his judgement. "What's the matter with you mutts?" he thundered, "can't even pin down a twig?"
"You try it!" shouted the wolf who was struggling with Ray's kicking feet.
"A twig?!" cried the one grabbing onto the Alpha's arms. "These are blasted tree trunks! And I'm just a sentinel's cub!" He screamed for help and another wolf slid in to add pressure onto those twigs that now bore the strength of two oak trunks.
The fifth mutt hastily used his body to clamp down Ray's aggressive wriggling. "Mozzo! Let's just let him go, huh—Oof!" Something hurled him off like a pebble from a slingshot.
Mozzo watched in horror and rising anger as the mutt at Ray's feet flew away and struck a tree. Then, the third one—at Ray's right arm—was slapped into a group of rocks, the second—at Ray's left arm—slammed into another tree trunk, and finally the one on Ray's stomach bounced off into a vanishing point in the sky.
Fury completely took over. "YOU MUCK MUTT!" Dropping the glass jar, the bully reached for the coughing and gasping Alpha, who was crawling to safety, and yanked him back.
"Let me go!" Ray croaked painful screams, as he scraped across the rough ground. "Get off me!" He punched and wriggled like his life depended on it. But the bully stayed on his scrawny body like a king on his throne.
"DIE!" An iron grip grabbed Ray's jaw and pried it apart.
Ray watched with terrified eyes as the lid opened. In grunts and groans, he grabbed Mozzo's wrists and tried to rip them off him—the speckles of darkness silently floated out—.
COME ON, RAY! Ray added pressure to the iron grip, his own rage skyrocketing. LET GO OF ME! He lifted the palm off his skin—.
A burst of white light consumed him.
*****
LUNA ROX
Year 2006
(Winter, The Howling Five Kingdom)
She couldn't believe her eyes.
A wolf, as huge as the King's, as white as the Queen's, shot at the crazy mutt Mozzo like a bazooka. Mozzo shifted too—but not fast enough, and the white wolf had already sunk its fangs deeply in that greyish brown neck.
It happened in the blink of her eyes.
Mozzo didn't even have a second to sound his pain.
As soon as the white wolf landed back on earth, Mozzo's head—and his frozen expression of shock and pain—fell with a thud beside the white fluffy paw. Another thump, and Mozzo's dead body landed behind.
Rox realised that she had halted her breathing. For the first time, she was beyond words, thoughts and movement. She watched in helpless numbness as the white wolf blinked its glowing blue eyes then gazed around like a newborn cub.
A sneeze struck the air like a gun, jolting Rox back to her senses.
When she returned her focus, the white wolf was gone and Ray laid lifeless between Mozzo's severed body. Quietly and hastily, the princess sprang out from behind the bushes and dashed over to her little brother.
She did a breathing check to make sure the wimp was still alive and threw him over her shoulder like a rice sack. Thankfully, the flamingo was as light as air, and she could carry him all the way back to the castle without anyone's notice.
*****
RAY HOOK
Year 2014
(Summer, The U.R.T., Crescent Bar)
He wished he couldn't hear them, but his father's abilities would never let it happen.
"How tall do you think he is?" Giggled the girl with nice shoulders.
Her friend giggled back. "I don't know. But I sure as hell want to find out—did you see those eyes?" More squeals erupted, and the same girl whispered, "Oh, I love me some blue eyes."
"I want to get lost in them," echoed another sweet voice.
"...think he's a model?"
"I want those arms around me."
"Maybe he works here part time… ."
"... he owns this place?"
"... do you think he has a girlfriend?"
"I don't care if he's married…."
The only way to not let it get to his head is to stay focused. Get the glasses, stack them on the tray, wipe the table—wait, spray that nasty thing first—then wipe the table. Fetch everything back to the counter and wash the glasses.
"Hey, there." The girl with nice shoulders entered his path, and Ray had to halt his routine. "What time do you get off?" She finished whispering in his ear and leaned back to let him have a good scan of her. Her perfectly lined eyes narrowed with a suggestion that her bright red smile encouraged.
Ray flashed a smile and watched the girl and her friends squeal in delight. He gave a nod and, in a slick move of effortless charm, went around her, the tray switching from right to left without the slightest tilt. He padded off with the ladies applauding in satisfaction of the magic trick they had just witnessed.
Another girl stepped in, and Ray performed the same stunt, until he arrived at the counter, where Uncle Ambrose, a man as wise in appearance as his father, was fixing a drink for a bombshell with the longest slender legs.
"... he's quite the looker." The model licked her hot pink lips and Ambrose followed her gaze, only to find his Alpha's son back turned to them, busy with his task.
"Careful, sweetheart." Ambrose settled the glass of cocktail before her satisfied lashes and observed with an admiring grin as her fingers picked it up in the most sensual way. "And he's keeping himself for someone."
"Aww… true love?" She spoke louder to get Ray's attention.
Those blue eyes watched the water spin and wash the foam out of the clear glass. Ray realised that when he concentrated on the music dancing in the air, other sounds would quickly drown to silence.
Minutes later, the ex-Delta—and owner of the Crescent Bar—was against the sink, swirling a glass of whiskey and sipping from it. "That's the millionth."
Ray chuckled. "Who asked for my number," he filled in the blanks.
"Who asked if you're mute."
The young Alpha cast a sheepish smile at his uncle's deadpan face and returned to the washing. "Better than asking for something I don't have."
Ambrose swallowed his sip of whiskey and exhaled. "Let's not talk about when you first got here. You were in no condition for anything—I get it."
Ray placed the last cleaned glass in the crate as his uncle continued.
"Then, three years went by. You were twelve. Kids your age would die for an Apple." He paused and reminded, "not the fruit," and added, "but you said it was a big change, and you need mental preparation."
The young prince merely smiled in acknowledgement—the empty cocktail glasses at the counter needed to be cleared.
"It's been seven years, Ray-ster." His Uncle sighed beside him. "That's enough mental preparation, isn't it? Are you an eel? It's just a bloody phone."
Fresh water swirled bravely in the glass until it rolled out, taking the foam with it.
"Think about it." The Delta lowered his voice to a secretive level. "The internet at your fingertips. That's your favourite, right?"
Ray was genuinely surprised. "How did you—?"
"I'm not blind, Ray-ster." Ambrose took a slow sip, his gaze glowing with sarcasm. "Your face is glued to the computer twenty-four-seven." The back of his hand gave a fist-bump on Ray's shoulder. "The screen may be less convenient than a desktop screen. But trust me—you'll love it."
His hands slowed down around the rag as the wheels of his mind sped up. Ray realised the brilliance of his uncle's idea. He could do more digging on the worldwide web during the depressingly long bus rides. Maybe, he could find that monastery sooner.