An Alpha's Claim

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Logan Black, Alpha of the Blackoath Pack, huffed, his breath spiralling in misty clouds above his head. The temperature had taken a nose dive and he was beginning to regret not dragging a blanket out with him.

He could, of course, be tucked up in his bed, happily snoozing away. As it was, however, his wolf had other plans.

Obsessed didn't even begin to cover it.

He watched her from a safe distance, ensuring he didn't go across her pack's perimeter as that'd be a surefire way to get himself killed. Of course, every night his wolf crept a little nearer, a little closer to the she-wolf he'd deemed his.

He had been ready to walk away, walk away and never see her again. He was going to keep the memory of her dancing in the forest and leave her alone.

That had been until he'd heard about the strange packs gathering in the area. Until he heard the rumours of the alphas trying to claim the insane she-wolf who'd killed Caine.

At first he hadn't known who they meant. His midnight dancer couldn't be the crazed killer they described, but as they were the same pack he investigated further. When he learned the truth, he damned near had a heart attack.

Vicious. She was vicious.

He loved it.

Caine had deserved his death.

At the mention of the name, Logan's wolf let out another huff, how he'd hated that man. Whilst he was glad he was dead, he wished it had been his hands that had killed him.

When he'd heard that his she-wolf was in danger, well that was when he'd appointed himself her personal body guard and secret assassin and, if he didn't say so himself, it was going quite well.

So far, she hadn't seemed to notice him and she hadn't been killed. Win, win. Though his wolf was slightly offended that her wolf hadn't sensed her mate so close to her.

Logan, however, was one of the best trackers in the world and was known for his ability to disappear, long ago in what felt like a lifetime before this one, his pack had called him The Ghost. He could get anywhere and back without anyone noticing. So he knew he really shouldn't be taking it personally, it still nagged at his wolf though.

The woman of his dreams, thoughts, nightmares and future plans, emerged from her home, snagging his attention, a small bag slung over her shoulder. Logan's forehead crinkled as he frowned, watching as the she-wolf scented the area around her and then took off for the perimeter.

"What are you up to?" He whispered to the cover of the night.

Unable to do anything other than follow her, he did so, making sure to keep a safe distance. This morning he'd got too close and one of her pack wolves had spotted him, he was lucky they hadn't raised the alarm. He was foolish, he'd been spotted so easily. Just another sign that something wasn't right.

She passed by the spot where she'd left one of the packs she'd killed recently and kept going.

The first night that a pack attacked, he'd readied himself to join the fray and save her, but to his absolute astonishment and slight horror, his graceful dancer was hiding a mean streak.

He wasn't sure he'd ever been so surprised, as he watched her slice and maim her way through the offending pack. Since that night, he'd sat back and watched her kill another three without blinking. Little did the she-wolf know, that with every show of strength, his wolf loved her more.

She was strong. Strong enough for them.

Curious, he followed his she-wolf across the no-mans-land towards the next pack territory. She paused at the border, but turned right and headed towards him, skirting the other packland. He cursed and buried himself in the trees, hoping to hide from her as she passed him.