Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Humans and Monsters ❯ Alpha Females ( Chapter 10 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

By: Smortz

The Pointless Disclaimer: This is my story and my take on the strange monsters our humanity has created. Reviews and messages are appreciated. If there are any typos or grammatical errors I am sorry. I re-read and edit all my chapters at least four times but it's hard to catch them.

Chapter 10

Elinore and Porter were both frozen but both for two different reasons. Elinore was frozen partly because she didn't know who the girl was.

She had fear of the usual first impression syndrome. Porter, however, was frozen because he knew exactly who the voice belonged to. He could hear the steps bounding up the stairs and stomping into the hallway. He could smell the scent of the wolf's pheromones, the hunting desire.

Landon was behind her, trying to slow her down. He couldn't though, she was Alpha female, she was Porter's mate. Chosen, not by love, but by the competition, she was chosen by fighting the others.

“W-Who is that?” Elinore asked as she stood out of the bed and clutched the sheets.

The door slammed open, whipping against the wall as the woman stepped in.

Her eyes were frightening silver, glowing like two full moons. Her hair was the same color as Porter's but was so long and rough it almost looked like a shiny, mane. “Porter,” she growled out, canines sparkling off the lighting.

“Genève,” Porter returned, although his voice wasn't as raspy, or threatening as hers. His was almost amusing.

“Who is she?” The women sneered at Elinore, walking towards her with a glare that promised pain and suffering. Porter stood in front of Elinore. “She's under our protection,” he proclaimed calmly.

“A human!” She retorted.

Her eyes sprang from Porter's to Landon's. “You! You brought her here! You're going to be the fall of us!” She yelled.

Elinore watched the werewolf shout at him and she rolled her eyes at dramatic scene, “Will you calm down?”

The woman's eyes snapped to hers. Elinore didn't know if she should stop at that or continue. “Porter and I have already talked through everything, I'll only be here until they settle things with my father, not a minute longer, I will ignore you the rest of the time I'm here if you will just calm down and ignore me,” she returned.

Porter was laughing, his eyes closed, teeth grinning wide. “Elinore, yo-you're something,” he got out and Elinore didn't know how to react.

Genève did. One hand grabbed her throat, and unlike Porters grip, she couldn't breath, another hand went to the back of her hair pulling her head back until she had tears leak to her eyes from the stinging pain of her hair screaming to be let go.

“Do not talk to the alpha like he is your friend, do not assume that we will fix your problems because you know wh-.”

“Put her down, you're making a fool of yourself, now,” Porter warned, although he still spoke in a calm voice.

Elinore was let go but she swayed from oxygen depravation. Landon was holding her up in a heart beat. His hands wrapped around her stomach as she fell against his back.

Although she was so close to him, he handled her like a porcelain doll, she realized. He was simply holding her up like a Barbie on a stand. “You okay?” He asked stiffly.

Elinore realized he was still regretting earlier.

That situation would have to wait.

“Porter, we can't have a human here, under our protection or not, not with the winter party so near, she'll be picked alive or we'll be laughed at!” The werewolf warned.

Porter shook his head, “No, she'll be on the same level as we are, and we will escort her that night until everyone has been matched. I gave Landon and Elinore my word as alpha to keep her safe.”

“Why?” She asked with a sneer.

Porter glanced at Elinore as she grumbled, “You'll tell her either way, why not in front of me?”

“Her father was turned into a werewolf without training, he abused her mother physically and sexually and now that she's runaway he's found her, and is trying to kill his mate, her mother, in order to reclaim a new mate,” Porter paused, “her.”

“His daughter?” Genève said with disgust.

Elinore had her own disgust, her own gag feeling her mouth as she leaned against Landon, just for the feel of warmth. She needed the feeling that her dad wasn't the only touch she's had.

Landon's body froze and she condemned herself for a moment.

“Fine, she is here. I'll need to make plans for more security at the party then,” she muttered, and without a word, or a glance at Elinore, Genève left the room.

“What party is she talking about?” Elinore asked when the door closed. Porter looked at her before chuckling. “Landon will explain it to you, I have matters to attend to,” he murmured, rubbing his hand over his face and retreating to find his mate.

Elinore turned around, breaking out of Landon's arms as moved to where there was a small sofa chair in the corner of the room, in front of a coffee table over a fancy Victorian rug.

Landon didn't move at all, he was still standing in his spot, but he was looking at her with eyes of fear. Elinore figured she'd bite the bullet.

“Oh get over it, plenty of guys get punched in the face by girls everyday,” she teased, although a small part of her was scared, “your ego will get over it.”

Landon was filled with relief in a small second, running his hand over his face he let a dry chuckle come out of his mouth, “S-Stupid.”

“You're the stupid one, getting upset by a tiny little punch, its not even like it hurt you physically, you'll heal in no time,” she grumbled out in her defense before he walked and sat at the coffee table in front of her.

“Y-You're something,” he muttered after a second of silence.

She didn't know whether the comment was an insult or a compliment, so she ignored it. Instead she though back to the party that the girl, Genève, had mentioned.

“What's the party for?” She asked.

Landon leaned his neck to the side, trying to reach for that knot in this back. “Bitches go into heat every spring, here Porter's pack holds a party in the winter, sort of like an extremely formal ball, its so that matches can form and when spring comes its not as… aggressive,” he explained.

Elinore tried to understand it all, and nodded, “So she doesn't want me here because I could….?”

“Well for two reasons. A: You could pose a threat to some of the females, if one of the pack members chooses you. B: You could be taken as a fine item on the menu and eaten,” he added the last with an ease that she didn't like.

“Okay, so you're worried I'm either going to be killed or wanted?” She asked.

“I'm not, but since Porter promised you protection then I guess I have to keep an eye on you,” he sneered, but she saw through it.

Elinore stood up and walked in front of him, looking down on him from where she was higher than him. He was looking up at her, his eyes bored. “You're really an idiot,” she muttered, before walking towards the bathroom, “I'm going to take a shower so unless you're going to join I think you should leave.”

Landon stood up and she heard foot steps, felt the warmth of someone behind her again as a hand grabbed her upper arm. “I-I'm sorry about earlier,” he muttered.

That was all she heard before the door slammed shut. Rolling her eyes she returned to her current problem.

The shower knob looked complicated.

Landon sighed, sitting comfortably in the sofa chair in the living room. The room was, to him, an antique collection. The furniture was sculpted wood from the early nineteenth century. The ceiling above him was a dome shape, with a chandelier that almost scared him. The flooring was covered in a dark cherry wood and an Italian rug swept over it, protecting it from the low table in the center.

His hearing picked up Porter's mate and him, mating in their bedroom. His nose picked up the smell of her pheromones and his sweat. He looked forward at the blank TV, not bothering to turn it off. It would be disrespectful to do that with them going at it.

Nothing ruins the mood more than the eleven o'clock news anchorman.

His ears picked up Elinore's shower turning off, and her light footsteps padding across the wooden floor. She was mumbling to herself as well, or was she one the phone. He closed his eyes to concentrate.

The phone conversation was about the magazine. She was announcing her abrupt notice of her leave of absence. He could hear the other woman on the phone screaming, but the crispiness of the phone speaker made her words disoriented.

“I know, I'll still print up the stories but I'll send them by email, I'm just visiting friends, an emergency,” she explained. He could hear the zipper of the suitcase he'd jammed full with her clothes.

Sneering he thought back to that ordeal. She'd had so many options that he ended up packing her entire closet and dresser into one large suitcase. It had probably gone over the airport weight limit if he'd tried to get on a plane.

The door opened, he heard the beep of her cell phone being turned off. It clicked shut and she sank into the living room.

Large pj pants sagged at her small, petite waist and a tight camisole hugged her torso, her breasts looking so finely shaped that he probably had drool forming at the corner of his lips. Her hair was still wt at the roots, drying in large natural waves that rolled over her shoulders.

“I-Is it alright if I went out to buy a drink? Is there a liquor store near by?” She asked.

Landen cleared his throat, trying to get the thoughts of perverse ideas out of his head. “What are you looking for? Hard stuff or campaign?”

Elinore smiled, “Some wine, would you like to share a bottle?”

When he heard Geneve make a cry of ecstasy he jumped to his feet, “We'll see.” He snatched the keys of something she probably wouldn't want to ride in. “You're going like that?”

“I don't feel like dirtying another thing of clothes for going to the liquor store,” she murmured.

Elinore watched him hold the door open for him before he closed it behind her. She began walking towards the car on the driveway but when he cleared his throat she stopped to find him.

He was heading towards a different smaller path, leading out towards the street. A sport bike sat on the path, two helmets on the seats. “T-This is your bike?”

“It is,” he returned. “You see, in Russia, I had an old one, and I don't like anything else.”

She stared at it. The black shiny paint looked untouched, and a pack of grey and white wolves' heads seemed to be howling above the front tire. She nervously hopped on behind him and he laughed quietly. “Never been on one?”

“No,” she whispered in response.

Landon chuckled at her whisper as he pushed the helmet into her chest. “You wear it, you're the on that can die.”

A/N

This story's getting easier to write with each chapter.