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WHOSE ALPHA?

[COMPLETE] The "Falci". One word. One woman but absolute hell, for the werewolves of Alexei. After singlehandedly bringing Alexei to its doom in a single attack, the falci is very determined to make sure the wolves don’t go back home. Without a home and their werewolf powers, the surviving wolves have no option but to blend in with the humans, only this time, they are the slaves for the humans for decades. However, their hope lies in two kids, both who haven’t been sighted since the attack on the day they were born. They are alive, though totally unaware of their identities, but that is all the hope the wolves need to keep them going. Maybe someday they will go back home. -------------- Rhian is the good thief. Steals everything that she considers valuable, but never sells them. Her reason, souvenirs are a man's best friend. Angels are supposed to be people with beautiful souls, but him, he is Satan reincarnate despite being called Angelo. They are both independent yet hardwired with a load of trouble and a carefree spirit. Heirs to a world they have only read about in books, these two must come together to save their people. A people they have never heard of yet are so dependent on them coming together. Will they really accept their fate or will they fight it till the end? Will they submit to the pull or will they end up destroying the very world they were tasked to save? A story that wills to answer the question, Whose Alpha? OTHER WORKS: ON PROFILE cover photo not mine, will take it down if the owner requests.

she_osprey · Kỳ huyễn
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434 Chs

Oh Joy

Rhian was confused.

What was happening to her? She should have been done already, and back in her van. Curiously she got up, ignoring the eyes that were trained on her. It looked like it was just her, Carl, the restaurant owner, and the guards.

Everyone else was gone. To where, she had no idea about, but wasn't about to ask either.

She knew she had to keep putting on her act if she was going to get fed and get the watch she wanted so bad. She just wanted to disappear right now, but that wouldn't be any fun, considering she needed to make it look like she really was poor, and in need.

"Food..." She said to no one in particular. She was really hungry this time because it felt like a lot of time had passed since she had last eaten.

At seventeen, she had learned to cope with her life so well that she was never worried. But here and now, she looked like a charity case. The eyes were pitiful, and maybe that's why she decided to maximize on the fake pity.

"Please...help me," She added to her drama. It was then that she noticed that her bleeding leg had been cleaned up, and bandaged, she was even covered by Carl's coat. She couldn't help but feel horrible.

She had targeted the guy, and now, he had saved her.

As much as she wanted to say thank you, that was just a word that was never in her vocabulary. The heavens could say that on her behalf. For now, she had to find a way to get out of here.

The food was brought to her, and her tastebuds almost died of pleasure, as she subconsciously let out a moan. She didn't care about anything for a minute there, save for the food she was so busy devouring.

If this was heaven, then she would as well tell Satan that she was taking a break from her life.

However, she knew this wouldn't last, and she had to plan her exit perfectly.

If she was to get out of this, she needed to stay uncultured, not that she was cultured, but she knew how to read, that could count for something. Additionally, she knew how to identify her valuables for the ordinary things, after all, the souvenirs she borrowed from her targets were a reminder of her career's success.

After eating, Carl escorted her outside and tried asking her where she lived, and whether she needed shelter. But her answer was a no.

In as much as she needed to find a better home, she would do that on her own. She would prove to herself, and everyone who had abandoned her that she was a strong, and independent woman.

Sighing in defeat, Carl let her go. He couldn't help but watch the "poor" girl limp away into the dark. He wanted to follow her, but she clearly didn't want to be followed.

Defeatedly, he got into his car as his assistant drove them off. While he was thinking about the girl he had just helped, he couldn't help but wonder what time it was, and whether it would be safe for her out there.

As usual, he lifted his arm to check the time, but he was met with nothing, save for his rings.

Maybe the watch had fallen when he helped the girl. Telling his assistant to drive back to the restaurant, he tried thinking of where he dropped it. But that was the thing. Carlos Morgan would never drop a watch that cost him a fortune. It was always on his arm, and he even showered with it.

When the realization dawned on him, he was very furious and wanted to smash something, more particularly someone, but he wasn't even sure she had stolen from him. Surely, she wouldn't steal from the hand that fed her, no?

When they got to the restaurant, his worst fears had been confirmed. The girl he had helped stole from him. A few more steps in the direction she had gone, he found his coat, and the tracker he had installed in his watch. She was a good one.

On his coat was the message, sorry, not sorry.

Not even a thank you.

Not even a grateful sign for being fed, and all that. She was not sorry for stealing.

Carl should've gotten even more pissed, but instead, he was amused. He had been played for being kind. He had been played, and he lost. That too, to a girl who looked seventeen, he wanted to go after her, but that was pointless because she was clever.

He knew she wouldn't ever let herself be caught.

Tired of the night, he drove off, feeling stupid, and yet happy at the same time.

**

A few steps away from where the coat had been left, was a girl who felt like shit for being shitty, but she knew the world was never fair. She only hoped that her target didn't become stone-hearted from how she tricked him. She was thankful for the food, and the care, even if it had been just for a moment.

She had never felt the love from anyone. Not even her parents. It was therefore understandable that she felt good even for the little time she felt cared for.

She shouldn't have stolen from him, it went against her very principle, never bite the hand that feeds you, but tonight, she had been in a tight spot, and she couldn't help but want the watch so much.

She had known that the deal was a one-time thing, and if she screwed up she would never get the watch. But when she fell unconscious, all hope of getting what she wanted fell out of the window.

Having been a survivor on the streets for a while, she had to find a way out, and if that meant sitting down for dinner with the target, then she would do that. After all, she was her own master.

From her adventure of the day, she felt tired and sleepy. She slowly walked back to her van, the only home she knew, and slept the rest of the night away.

Tomorrow would take care of itself after all.

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!

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