[ Hey! I'm so excited to finally be re-releasing Eye of the Alpha! It's a revamped story, but still the same as before in terms of plot, just a little more complex and planned. Names have changed, characters have changed and so have a few other things, but it's not too different! Honestly, I think you guys will like this version a lot better. And if you're eagerly waiting for what happens NEXT rather than what you've read before, I'm picking up where the previously written version of the story left off and getting there a lot faster! For now, enjoy what I have for you:) If you spot any 'Rory's than it's Beau! Sorry, I went through a name changing process. ]
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She'd been there for an hour. The first time he'd caught a glimpse of the stare, he'd assumed she were looking through him, perhaps stuck in a deep track of thought due to the stress of the day. But she kept staring, and her eyes moved as he did. Beau was hesitant to go over and ask if she needed anything, but after all, that's what he was getting payed to do.
"You alright there?" He asked, collecting the mugs and such off the table, placing them on a small round black tray, his eyes only occasionally glancing up, becoming too uncomfortable under her watch to cope.
"Haven't I seen you somewhere?" She asks, tilting her head a little to the side, lifting a dark brow. She had tan skin, deep dark features. She was gorgeous, though something about her was menacing – playfully, though.
An almost embarrassed smile made its way onto his lips. "Are you attending the local University?"
She looked around Beau's age, perhaps a couple years older than his nineteen, but still in the age group of a Uni student.
Her smile widened and her expression softened, relieving Beau somewhat. "Must be it."
Beau nodded back in return politely, giving her a soft smile. He'd never seen her before, but felt rude mentioning it. It wasn't a big place, but it wasn't as if he could memorise every face. He was almost flattered that his own stood out, assuming that it was for the right reasons.
"It's the eyes," She added, leaning back in her seat, gazing at him, "They're odd, but they're gorgeous."
His face became hot and his golden eyes widened. They weren't bright by any means, a light hazel colour if anything, but it wasn't a common colour. "Uh – can I get you anything?" He asks, trying to move the topic off himself. He was flushing awkwardly. He was flattered, but embarrassed.
"Just another black coffee," She leaned forward slowly and lifted her mug towards him. He placed it upon the tray and gave her one last subtle smile before walking back behind the counter.
"I don't like her."
Beau almost dropped his tray when he'd heard the voice from behind him. It tipped a little to the side and he dropped a single spoon.
"I got it," Claimed Dahlia who bent down and picked up a spoon for him, placing it back on his tray and greeting him with a sweet smile, bright and loveable.
"You're not allowed back here, you're gonna' get me in trouble," Beau claimed, walking through to the kitchen in the back. Like always, she followed him in. His boss had mentioned her a few times, though whenever he was in her presence he was as mesmerized by her beauty as most were. She had dark curly hair surrounding her pretty face, darker skin than the girl he'd seen, silkier too. Dahlia was a cute girl with a personality that shone. Even his eyes couldn't compete with that.
"What did she want?" She asked, leaning against the metal counter surface as he put mugs and saucers into the sink.
Beau looked at her from the side and gave her a smirk, "She complimented my eyes."
"Did you see the way that she was staring at you?" She winced a little and shuddered.
"I did, but I don't think she meant anything by it," He commented.
Dahlia didn't beam as she almost always did, "Said every ignorant psycho bait ever."
Beau narrowed his eyes at his friend, "Don't worry. It's not as if she's my type is it? If she asks me out – which she won't, I'll politely decline."
The girl started to go into a track of her own thought, occasionally whispering beneath her breath, only faint traces of movement from her lips. Beau eventually snapped his fingers in front of her face, "Out. I'm working."
She sighed, got up and followed her friend out of the kitchen. "I'm gone. But wait here until I come for you, okay? And you better stick to that plan," She was walking past the small queue as she spoke and having to tiptoe her head above them as she shouted over them.
With one reassuring thumbs up from Beau, she was gone, and he began to work on the girl's drink, though when he looked about the coffee shop, there was no sign of her. He furrowed his brows and sighed, but eventually just got on with his day.
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Beau had finished off, and he was the last one there to close everything up, though of course, he couldn't leave until Dahlia came and got him. She was overly protective like that. Had been since he'd moved to Hellmeade in Scotland to live with his Grandmother, she'd been the most welcoming out of anyone. She was moving there the same time as him and went out of her way to become his friend. He was very fond of her, though she could be a little overbearing at times. Or, well, all the time.
He'd first thought that it was because she might be interested in him. Even he thought that was a little absurd, and when he'd dropped a hint of his lack interest in girls, she'd proceeded to look out for him, which he then learned to appreciate greatly. He'd never really had a friend like that.
The entire room was dark, and what little light spilled in from the shutters had to make do. He switched off all the machines, did all the dishes and mugs and gave the place a quick clean down, simply out of boredom waiting for Dahlia to arrive.
It wasn't his job to do all those things, but he knew his co-workers wouldn't mind the gesture. He was a little bit of a people pleaser. He had to be since his socially awkward personally was lacking in charm to make up for it. He seemed to have gained a few friends due to his willingness to clean, though. Apparently the worker he was replacing could barely wash herself.
The last job on the list was to take out the trash. He grabbed the huge black bin bag, tied up and ready to be thrown out. It was heavier than it seemed, but yet despite his pathetic build, he managed to carry it.
Shivering at first when the cold hit him. He wished he'd brought at least a jacket to go over his work uniform, a black short sleeved T-shirt and jeans with a dark green apron over it. His teeth began to chatter as he made his way out into the alley and with a heavy sigh, he threw the trash bag over his shoulder, into rubbish container. Done.
He turned on his heels, eager to get away from the horrid stench of the trash and out of the cold before he began sniffling, though before he could even place his foot down ahead of him his entire body halted. A scream, no, a wail.
His muscles tensed and his head averted to look down the alley. His brows were furrowed as his eyes narrowed. What the fuck was that? He knew it wasn't good. He found himself eager to run back inside, but his feet were stuck. He was frozen, scared that even the slightest movement would attract unwanted attention.
And then came the figure. It flew in from around the corner, as if it had been thrown, and hit the wall, falling straight to the floor as if the impact had weakened it. The body rolled, and the moonlight that spilled just enough for him to see revealed that it was a girl. No – it wasn't just any girl; it was the girl he'd seen at the café. That wasn't the kind of face you'd forget, even through bruises and blood.
He was panicking now, and his eyes darted towards the door.
By the time he composed himself, the chance to run was over, and within seconds, another was among them. He just about managed to hide behind the metal trash container, crouching on the floor, one head out, peaking at the scene.
The girl had tried to get up, but the tall male figure had kicked her down with the force of his boot. She screamed again. It was deafening, but never the less, a cry for help.
Beau's eyes widened with pity and his jaw dropped in shock. The man had leaned down and grabbed her by her dark hair, picking her up with such strength that her feet lifted from the floor. He wasn't sure exactly what he was hearing, but he swore that the sound the other made was an animalistic growl.
The girl was struggling, trying to escape from the lock of his single hand. He watched, knowing that he should do something, but too scared – no, too much of a coward to risk his own life. Call the police, that's what he needed to do, before it was too late. He retrieved his phone from his pocket, thoughts of alarm flooding his head. His fingers shook as he attempted to press the keys but failed every time due to the lack of focus.
His breath was heavy, and his pants were getting louder, to the point where he didn't think he could stay quiet any longer. For now, the man – no, that wasn't a man. That... thing, that monster was distracted, unfortunately at the hands of an innocent, but he was going to be next if his presence was known.
He peeked again. Such abnormal strength... and the way he moved, so rough and animalistic. It wasn't the muscles, or the height, but it was the way he moved like a predator. And those eyes... despite the fact the lighting was low and the moon shone only over their backs, leaving their fronts consumed by darkness, the male's eyes seemed to make themselves present among the black. Red eyes. The devil's eyes.
The girl was against the brick wall now, trying to kick her way out of the grip, now tightly wrapped around her neck but she was unable to do so. He dragged her higher and higher up the wall. She was choking to death, but Rory's instincts told him that he was not done with the girl yet.
"I won't ask again," The male warned in a deep viscous, almost demonic voice, though a thick accent still made its way through, "Why are you here?" Whilst he spoke, carrying the other's weight with one hand, and reaching into his pocket with the other, he withdrew an object. With a swift jerk, he allowed the moonlight to bounce off it, and let Beau catch a glimpse of a blade.
He gasped. And then he regretted doing so. He forced himself behind the trash can again, a hand over his mouth. His phone on the other hand lay face up on the ground, unconcealed, exposed to the predator's eyes. He'd dropped it, shit. Had he seen? The worry began to overwhelm him, and his torso tightened. He stopped breathing. He didn't want to risk having the same fate as that girl, no matter how much of a coward that made him.
"Fine," He heard being said, "You've chosen your fate."
Beau's eyes widened. Vomit forced itself up his throat as he listened to the girl's next screams. She cried louder than she ever had done, so loud that he had to press his hands against his ears, and even then he still couldn't escape the sound of a girl dying.
The next few moments were filled with silence, except for the sound of a corpse dropping to the floor. He began to cry. Never had he ever felt so scared, or weak. He tried to calm himself with deep breaths to ease him, but that didn't stop the overwhelming feeling that he was that thing's next target. He crawled back to his space near the edge of the trash container, and quickly snatches his phone. All he needed to do was dial is nine-nine-nine and everything would be okay. He wasn't convinced by the thought.
He cursed over and over, rapidly saying 'fuck' in his head. His shaky hands began dialing the number. It was only three digits and a call button that he needed to press, and yet he took forever in doing so. The tears streaming down his face fell onto the screen of his phone as he typed. Come on, just one more nine, god dammit.
His phone dropped the floor again and suddenly he was brought up. It was like he was being levitated, grasped and picked up by the back of his shirt, and the sensation was oddly mystifying, until he was thrown back hard against the wall, and pain became consumed him.
When he looked up, the red eyes looked back at him. Big, dangerous, red eyes. He'd fallen to the floor, and his body was weak, lifeless, and yet his own eyes were wide and alert. The figure had crouched down in front of him and leaned forward, as if inspecting him. Up close, his face was more distinguished.
He had big features, a heavily structured face and a strong jaw, outlined with thick stubble. His hair was blonde, long, shaggy and curly. Despite these, it was the eyes that engaged him. They took what could be a nice looking human face, and repelled you against it. Though it was hard to look at him, Beau couldn't take his eyes off him.
It took him a while before he noticed the cold edge of the blade was against his throat, pressed against his skin though not breaking it.
"Do not. Say. A word," Said a lower voice, less like a monster, more like a human, but still thoroughly intimidating, spoken with a snarl beneath his breath to give it a wolf like touch, "Not to the police. And not to anyone. Got it? You keep quiet, and you don't get hurt. Simple enough for you?" He withdrew the blade a little to allow Beau to respond, which he did in the form of a short, but desperate nod.
The other's lips twitched into something of a smirk. A big strong hand reaches out for Beau's face, and an index finger was softly brushed against his cheek. "No need to be scared, love. You're safe," Spoke the same voice, only softer. The red in his eyes seemed to... dissolve... and suddenly no light shone from them. It was too dark to see what colour they actually were. "Unless you talk."
The male withdrew himself and rose. He put away his dagger, and made his way back down the alley, without so much as another glance back towards him, although before he turned the corner, he added, "Oh and, you're welcome."