Revelations to an Alpha

Chapter 1, Revelation: privacy is gone

(A/N: I just want to say a massive thankyou to everybody who read Confessions of an Omega! I never intented for the book to get so many reads, I just posted for fun but it has grown so much! Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you I cannot thank you enough ah. I love you!

And thank you for reading this book! Well, I can bet you you never thought that this book would go quite the direction I flung it into.

Well, here goes nothing. How do I make this a dramatic start to a sequal that is nothing like I imagined...

WELCOMING, REVELATIONS TO AN ALPHA!

{I apologise for the long-winded first chapter in advance!})

Chapter one, Revelation:  privacy is gone

They say not to start a war, if you don’t know what you’re fighting for.

But what do they know?

I started a war. I didn’t know what I was fighting for then, and I defiantly don’t know now. All I know is what I’m fighting against. The Queen, and the darkness that follows.  I’m fighting because no one else would. And the fight, against evil, they say, can never be won, but must always be fought.

So I take that as comfort, and ignore the need for a reason. Because I don’t know what I’m fighting for.

I’m not fighting for victory.

I’m not fighting for the fallen.

I’m not even fighting for the greater good.

Because if I was, I wouldn’t be sending soldiers to their deaths, or going to bed wishing the queen would somehow be sent to the deep pits of hell. Because, you see, you can’t win a war against something that won’t die. It’s like throwing pebbles at the devil. Sure, you might graze the skin, but that’s all that’s ever going to happen.

Our stance is hopeless. Our attacks are harmless. Our fight is pointless.

But, as I stand with my toes in the low tide of the Caribbean Ocean, I feel like somehow something changed today. It feels like the war is no longer endless.

I sigh, breathing in the salty air of the sea. The sun rises slowly from the horizon and I watch it, like I do every morning with the same intensity. The way the rays of light pop over the see and bring Eustatia Island to life. The way the sun goes from being a lightly tinted pink to an eye watering orange. The way the sea reflects all of the light back at the sky. The way the waves crash around the sand and bury my feet. The way the air becomes lighter, and almost easier to breathe. The way it gives me hope, like nothing else.

Because I know the Queen, somewhere in the world looked at the exact same sun a few hours ago. And I know the sun shines brighter for me.

A few werewolf cubs bound out from the forest and run behind me across the long stretch of sand. I watch them as the pounce round the curve of the island and head towards the cliffs.

From where I’m standing, on the south-west start of the beach, I can see how the beach arcs a little on the left, making something of a little bay. The beach arcs until it gets to a point, where it follows the line of the island and bends around the cliffs. Behind the cliffs is a longer stretch of the beach. The wolves look like ants to me now as they disappear round the turn.

On my right is the entrance to the forest. It’s a long forest and has many other inhabitants for our wolves to live off. But it’s not what our wolves are used to. We like cold, damp, thin forests. And here it seems like the complete opposite.