What can I say? Metallica and werewolves inspire me. ;) The title and the quotation come from a Metallica song with the same title. Little fun fact: accidentally I started writing this at a full moon. :) Oh and this time I’d like to recommend you all the Metallica songs as it seems that I fell in love with them again and they inspire this story, helping me figure out where to go with it, lol.
This is all fiction and for fun.
Full size of the picture HERE.
The Outlaw Torn
And if close my mind in fear
Please pry it open
And if my face becomes sincere
And when I start to come undone
Stitch me together
And when you see me strut
Remind me of what left this outlaw torn…”
Spit and blood were flying in the air. The coppery smell drove the fighters crazy with rage, the deafening howls and snarls echoed through the clearing, disturbing the peace of the forest. A large furry body jumped off a big stone to land on the back of another wolf. It’s been a long night and the yellow full moon was hanging low on the starry sky.
The fighting wolves didn’t seem to notice as they were occupied with their opponents and staying alive. The larger pack was attacking viciously while the smaller one tried to desperately defend themselves and their territory. They proved to be stronger than expected and they stood their ground, backing up their alpha, an older grey wolf. It was true that he didn’t fight clean, but it was necessary to win the fight. His pack knew that he’d rather die than to see his pack and territory taken away by the younger alpha and his pack. And every wolf could feel that his death would be inevitable if he was to lose.
The smaller pack lived close to the outskirt of North LA and for generations they stood their ground, fighting back every attempt to take over their territory. Once they were the strongest in the area, but many of their members died by the hand of werewolf hunters in the 1970s. Since then other packs managed to snitch parts of their large territory and they could never swell back the population of the pack as big as it used to be. Now it consisted of 25 wolves. Five of them were still considered cubs and they couldn’t fight in the case of an attack. Which means that at the beginning of the evening only 20 wolves went against 37 and at the moment winning seemed impossible.
A loud growl of the grey alpha echoed through the clearing and his remaining pack members. The next moment brought a yelp and fur flying again. The two alphas were fighting to death now. The bigger black one pushed the grey off its feet and tried to go for his throat, but he missed it only to get deep claw marks on his chest. They were rolling around for quite some time, trying to find each other’s weaknesses and exploit them in order to win.
By the time they stopped again they were both panting, dusty fur matted with blood and saliva. The older wolf seemed to be more exhausted and injured, but he wasn’t giving up. With all of his remaining strength he attacked the bigger black one in a blur and the dust was making it difficult to see what the outcome would be.
A few minutes and a sharp yelp later that drew the attention of the other fighting wolves it was over. The black wolf’s jaw clenched and the horrible sound of crushing windpipe and spine put an end to the fight. In the next moment a silvery, nearly white blur knocked the black alpha off his feet and he rolled in the dust just to jump up snarling from the disrespect and expecting another attack from the smaller young wolf, but he didn’t pay attention to him. His focus was on the dead grey wolf, his former alpha. His bloody and wet nose gently nudged the motionless head, whining softly, waves of sorrow and grief rolling off him as a fat tear drop rolled into the light gray fur.
The black alpha stepped closer only to be growled at by the smaller wolf, who positioned his body as if to shield the dead wolf. He wasn’t scared to show his teeth as he snarled warningly. The black wolf stopped and watched him with his piercing blue eyes, towering over him. He growled low and challenging while dominance radiated from his being. He suddenly seemed taller and stronger despite the small injuries he got during the night. The white wolf with glowing golden eyes didn’t look away from the piercing blue for long minutes.
All the other wolves stopped fighting and were watching the scene. They wanted to know if the white wolf would take up the challenge and attack the black one. Now that the smaller pack didn’t have an alpha, their beta – the white wolf – became temporarily their leader and they would follow him even to death if that was his decision.
The air was filled with tension and magic as the two wolf’s energies and willpower strained against each other. They didn’t move just snarled and barked at each other a few times, but it was expected that the alpha’s power would overwhelm the weaker white wolf’s and force him to submit. With one last snarling bark the resistance of the beta slowly dissolved and as the alpha stepped closer he lowered his body on the ground and bared his neck. But the fire of defiance was still burning in his amber eyes.
As the alpha’s sharp canines gently closed around the other’s offered throat something else happened. The white wolf’s eyes slid shut and a low grumble rose from his strong chest, but aside from cowering to the ground he didn’t move. The human inside tried to focus on the raging anger and pain he was feeling, but the wolf, the traitor, was starting to have other feelings too – for example, bordering on liking to submit to the other wolf – just when the alpha let his throat go and turned his head towards the sky, howling their victory into the early morning air.
The alpha looked around to size up the situation and check on the wolves. They were all his if the smaller pack’s wolves chose to join his pack. If not, they had to leave the area and become lone wolves without a pack, which made them an easy prey for other packs, vampires or hunters. Everyone knew the risks of that second option and usually very few wolves took that chance. The alpha saw that only four of his own wolves had died during the fights. The situation was more serious for the smaller pack which’s size dropped by ten (not counting the five cubs, of course). The black alpha expected that the Burbank pack would be weaker than his as their alpha was old and not as powerful as him. Of course it affected the whole of the pack too. Now the remaining wolves will have the chance to get stronger and find protection in his pack.
‘I am Alpha of the Los Angeles pack and won over the Burbank pack in a difficult fight with your Alpha. The choice is yours: Will you accept my authority as your new Alpha or choose to leave our territory and never come back?’ the alpha mind-linked to the other wolves, his mental voice strong and proud, oozing dominance. ‘If your answer is yes, come forth and submit to me.’
For a long moment none of the Burbank pack’s wolves moved. The white wolf lifted his head enough to be able to look around. He felt their insecurity and even some fear about their uncertain future and despite the fact that he was still pissed and not willing to bare his belly in full submission he knew that as the beta he had to think of the well-being of the other wolves too. They were all waiting for his decision. He could feel their eyes and presence focused on him. He had to do it so they could make their own decision too.
The white wolf huffed and slowly crawled closer on his belly, lifting his head to shortly lick the muzzle of the alpha.
‘I accept,’ his quiet voice could be heard in the minds of the present wolves, although his body was still shaking with suppressed anger.
That was enough for some of his old pack members to come closer and copy his actions. They one by one pledged loyalty to their new alpha. The white wolf stood up and walked a few steps farther as he watched it, his fur standing on end and his heart was bleeding as he looked over their former alpha’s lifeless body.
Once he was done the black wolf shook his long fur and let the air boil around him for a few moments before a tall naked man with black hair and a sea of freckles on pale and slightly bloody skin stood up. His stance was proud and there was no hint of him being bothered about his nakedness. Not that any of them would as pack members liked little or no clothes on as their temperature ran higher than humans’ and they liked to touch or nuzzle bare skin. The same intense blue eyes looked over the gathered wolves. The older members of the man’s pack appeared calm and even happy despite their losses. It was important to gain more members and territory in order to grow stronger and secure their position in the area. And now they became stronger as none of the Burbank pack’s members have decided to leave.
“Welcome in the Los Angeles pack,” he looked down at the remaining ten wolves, nine of them still in a submissive pose around the man. “My name is Adam Lambert and I shall take good care of you all. All of you, shift back and take care of your dead before going home to rest,” he continued and a wave of his power swiped through the clearing, watching as one by one everyone turned back into their human form, filling the clearing with naked men and women, who started moving around to collect their dead and deal with them.
Adam watched them for a second before his eyes got caught on a blonde patch of messy hair and a skinny pale figure kneeling beside the dead alpha, running slender fingers through the dirty fur. The right side of his face was covered by long bangs therefore hidden from the dark-haired man. Sniffing into the air he recognized that certain scent and from that he knew it was the nearly white wolf. Adam frowned as he watched him and sized up his still boiling emotions. He could distantly feel the pain and disappointment from the small blond man, who was focused on grieving the alpha.
Adam slowly walked closer, drawing the man’s attention to him. His head snapped to the side and up to be able to look at the tall man. Adam forgot to breathe for a moment but not from the intense anger directed at him but the fragile but still manly beauty of the male’s face and the stirring emotions Adam felt from his wolf. He could see that he was nearly snarling at him as a few tear drops slid down on the pale face.
“I am sorry for your alpha. It was necessary, you know well. He’d have done the same to me if given the chance,” he said calmly.
The blond took a moment to hold his anger back but his voice was still sharp as a knife. “I don’t need your pity. I know it was. He’d have never submitted to you and just that you know, I did recognize your authority only for the sake of the rest of my people. I’ll never fully accept you, no matter what you do to me!” he growled, gold bleeding into the chocolate brown eyes as the small blonde’s power started swirling around him.
Adam just nodded – he already knew that – as he looked strictly at him. His own powers strained against the blonde’s again, but otherwise he didn’t move. His wolf was still pacing close to the surface, but it didn’t want to attack the other just show him his place. “Calm down. I don’t want to fight you if it’s not necessary. You are injured and exhausted,” he eyed the already healing bite mark on the bottle blonde’s left side. “I can call someone to help you with your alpha’s body, if you like.”
“No! I’ll bury him alone,” he shook his head and Adam saw the muscles in the toned tattooed arm flex as the man fisted his hand in the still warm fur.
“Very well. Someone from my pack will contact you and the rest of your people tomorrow. I’ll hold a meeting for the full pack. We need a former introduction and I want to get to know the new members of my pack. What’s your name?”
The small blonde just nodded, not looking at him. “Fine. I’m Tommy Joe Ratliff… the beta of my pack… and the son of the alpha…” he whispered at the end, revealing the reason why he was so shaken by the loss of his alpha.
Adam’s eyes rounded for a second but then he pressed his mouth together and nodded, pulling his power back which meanwhile suppressed the blonde’s. “I’m sorry,” he whispered as he turned around to leave. He hated this inevitable rule, or werewolf law if you like, the most. He never found joy in killing the rival alphas, but he believed it was necessary.
“You will be,” he could hear a barely whisper and turning around he stared into the angry golden eyes again. Adam let out a warning growl and watched as Tommy’s shoulders and eyes dropped after a long moment.
Continuing his way to check on the others he was frowning and thinking hard. He’d have to keep an eye on the small man to make sure he won’t do something stupid. He didn’t think Tommy would do something serious, but a thorn in the side could be a pain in the ass for sure. Rubbing his temple he closed on a circle of his pack members, thinking that soon the merging ceremony will have to happen along with the hierarchy fights as the new members of his pack had to fall in line and connect too. As he looked over their dead he sighed again. Being the pack-leader of now one of the biggest pack in the area wasn’t easy.