32: An Alpha Hunt [2]

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Flipping through the pages of the Bestiary, I found myself fixated on the bed. 

After uncovering details about the Alpha, I embarked on an exhaustive search for any information on feral wolfmen. But let me tell you, the stuff I stumbled upon wasn't exactly what I had in mind.

Turns out, there's a surprising number of folks out there obsessed with the idea of a doe-eyed beauty caught between two alpha werewolves. Romanticising monsters seems to be all the rage these days, and honestly, it's a trend I'm starting to loathe.

However, amidst the lovey-dovey werewolf fanfiction, I did manage to uncover a few nuggets of truth that fit the descriptions quite nicely, courtesy of some websites that actually felt halfway legitimate.

All Alphas seemed to share a few common traits. 

They could control their transformations during the full moon, handle the effects of suppressing their animal instincts like it was no big deal, and most importantly, they had the power to call and control their betas.

While the internet had provided me with a laundry list of majestic powers an Alpha could supposedly possess, the book offered a more down-to-earth perspective. 

According to the book, an Alpha wasn't all that different from a Beta, except for their beefed-up physical abilities.

I flopped onto the bed, closing the book with a sigh. I'd been at this for hours, and I was already feeling seriously wiped out. I had a solid two-hour window before dawn, and if I wanted to have any hope of surviving school tomorrow, I needed to catch some Z's.

Just as I was about to drift off, my eyes snapped open at the sound of gunfire. I bolted upright, my gaze fixated on the window.

Gunshots were not a common occurrence in Beacon Hills, to say the least. In fact, they were about as rare as a sunny day in Seattle.

I blinked, still trying to process what I'd just heard, but the gunfire didn't stop there.

It was quickly followed by the unmistakable sound of someone unloading an entire magazine from a pistol, followed by the distinct echo of a shotgun blast.

"Oh, crap!" I muttered as I scrambled to pull on my pants and bolted toward the door. As I flung it open, my eyes locked onto the crescent moon, just in time to hear a long, haunting howl pierce the night.

—------

A bright yellow Camaro cruised through the streets of Beacon Hill like a bumblebee, the usual traffic absent tonight just like the past few nights.

The curfew had a dramatic effect on the nightlife, but she didn't seem to care about the deserted state of the town. All she wanted was another beer, just like the one in her hand, and a hot shower.

"God. Damn this place."

She muttered the words under her breath as her resentful eyes scanned the empty streets she once frequented during her teen years.

The fleeting memories of her youth didn't deter the steady pace of the vehicle. She took a swig from the lukewarm beer and grimaced at the rough texture as it slid down her throat. Her hand left the steering wheel and reached for the radio.

After a moment of static, the signal tuned to a local station reporting news.

"In other news, the local authorities remain puzzled by the animal attacks plaguing Beacon Hills." The reporter announced. She scoffed and changed the channel.

'Animal attacks?' She grumbled at the mere mention. If only it were just that. Her stay in this wretched place would be boring and short, for sure.

The music soon filled the car, drowning out the unsettling news. As the car continued to navigate through the deserted town in silence, her hunter's instincts kicked in, and her eyes darted between the mirrors reflecting the road.

As her eyes scanned the reflective surfaces, she failed to notice a pair of crimson red eyes fiercely chasing alongside her. Just as she glanced to her side, the creature retreated into the shadows.

Taking her eyes off the road for a moment to check again, a blaring horn brought her attention back, and she instinctively slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt.

A truck came from the side and passed her, honking repeatedly.

She gasped as the truck narrowly missed her car by inches and let out the breath she had unknowingly been holding once it passed.

"Nice driving, Kate, nice." She muttered to herself.

The car descended into an ominous silence as her instincts continued to warn her. But her view remained plain, devoid of any signs of danger.

Just as she was about to start the engine again, her eyes shot upward as a loud clank reverberated, like a nail scraping against a board. Her hand slid down to the gearshift and reached for the pistol in the glove compartment.

With a swift motion, she retrieved the gun as shards of broken glass flew around the car with a loud noise. A claw, larger than her palm, reached for her, pulling her jacket toward the shattered window, but she held on tight and fired a shot into the roof of the car.

Six bullets pierced the roof, eliciting a pained growl. She tossed the gun aside and grabbed the shotgun from the back seat, then rolled out of the car.

"Come on!"

She racked the shotgun and fired a shot into the sky, taunting the creature.

"Come on!!"

—-

[ Allison Pov ]

I tossed and turned in my bed, grappling with my long pillow, unable to find a comfortable position to drift off into peaceful sleep.

My mind was a jumbled mess, replaying the conversation I had with Scott over and over again, keeping me restless.

But it was necessary. His behaviour was bordering on stalkerish, and while I knew Scott was a good guy, something just didn't sit right.

I couldn't deny that there had been something between us, a spark, but it simply hadn't worked out. Scott needed to understand that.

For some reason, my thoughts shifted from Scott to a certain dark-haired, quirky guy.

I pushed my hair back, feeling a sense of calm wash over me as I thought about him.

His lazy smirk, defined jawline, and sarcastic remarks flashed through my mind, eliciting a chuckle from me.

As I sat on my bed, lost in thought, a loud thud echoed from the living room, followed by the clatter of metal.

That was odd. Was Mom having one of her midnight cravings again? No, she knew the kitchen layout too well to cause such a commotion.

Curiosity piqued, I ventured out of my room. Standing at the top of the stairs, I peered down and saw my dad leaving with a hiking kit in hand.

"What's going on?" I asked, catching him off guard with my sudden voice.

"Your Aunt Kate just texted." He muttered, sounding a bit flustered. "I'm going to pick her up."

"It's 3:00 in the morning. Is everything alright?" I feigned a yawn as I inquired.

"Yeah, yeah." He replied nervously. "She's just dealing with a little car trouble."

"Nothing serious, I hope?"

"No, just a flat tire. Go back to bed, sweetheart." He urged.

I nodded and slowly retreated, watching him hurry out of the house.

While I collapsed onto my bed, my mind still lingering on thoughts of a certain guy, I felt myself drifting off to sleep.