Wolf Prints

The Female Alpha

"Sure. He's hot." I shrugged, watching the girl practically salivate where she stood. I smiled. Humans amused me.

She seemed to break out of her stupor as she held her hand out in front of her, a new sparkle in her eye. "You must be new here. I'm Raven."

I gladly placed my hand in hers, already taking a liking to her. "Yes I am, and my name's Luna."

Releasing my hand, she swiftly went back to her comatose state, tipping her head to stare around the corner at the group. A sigh escaped her lips before she sadly dragged her eyes back to me. "Well I'm going to give you fair warning, only because you're new. Don't get too attached to Blake. He's kinda taken."

"Oh?" I asked, not really caring. I'd just bet he was.

"Yeah." She nodded emphatically, her short dark hair bobbing. "The Barbie bitch has had her claws in him for years."

I smiled at her wistful tone as well as her choice of words. Claws. She had no idea.

She continued on, unaware of my inner thoughts. "Any girl who even tries to get close to him receives her wrath. And trust me on this, it's not pretty."

I flicked another quick glance in the group's direction, immediately spotting the girl in question. She was gorgeous, her long blond hair falling in soft curls down her back, her body that of a supermodel, and her legs looked a mile long in the miniskirt and pink heels she wore.

Again, I was not impressed. Werewolves. Are. Beautiful.

End of story.

The surprising part of this is that she was here at all. As in...alive. Female werewolves were few and far between. Almost as rare as an alpha. I'd only personally met a few in my lifetime, which is considered lucky. Most werewolves never even see a female of their species in their lifetime.

They are well protected; treated with the respect and security of a princess.

I concentrated, watching the group with a keener eye than before. Blake had his arm wrapped protectively around her waist, her hand in turn wrapped around his shoulder behind his back. Two boys stood behind her, not a foot away, never taking their eyes off her lithe frame as she laughed at something Blake said, oblivious.

My eyes narrowed.

Guards.

"Though I have to say," Raven was still talking, "if you really wanted to go after him, you just might be able to steal him away from her. You're certainly pretty enough." She winked at me.

This, by far, was the strangest thing the girl had said as of yet. I was okay, I guess. Pretty, but certainly not beautiful. To a human, maybe, but not to them. Standing at five foot five, I was not tall. By werewolf terms, I was positively short. My hair was long and straight, a dark chocolate brown that I thought both dull and boring. My eyes, once a warm brown had long since lost it's luster, leaving them to forever be a flat, dark russet that I knew to be nothing if not haunting.

The best I could hope for was to be called striking. I did have that certain something. Ethereal quality, if you will.

But beautiful? No. Not in the way that the Barbie hanging off Blake was.

The bell rang, but I ignored it, too lost in thought. I did not even notice that the halls had emptied, but for Raven and myself.

And, apparently, a group of people who had just walked as one around the corner - my corner - and stopped in their tracks, the boy I had come to know as Blake leading them.

He sniffed in my direction, his eyes widening as he realized what I was. For an entire minute, the corridor froze, recognition passing from one werewolf face to the next. Shock. There was no other word for it.