Alpha's Sin

Aris Salazar: A lycan and the leader of thirty-one cities, he is twenty-seven years old. Alpha with selfish traits and goals, driven by greed as his cloak.

Odila: A young human woman, twenty-three years old. She escaped from her companion after he committed an unforgivable sin.

Ophelia Marx: A young and ambitious girl who wishes to transform into one of the rare creatures in the transformation laboratories, even if it means stealing her mother’s identity to move around freely.

Pavlos: A leader with rare powers, especially in the transformation laboratories, he is twenty-six years old. He is also the captain of three flying ships that hover above the city under Aris Salazar’s rule.

“Then tell me, Mother, why did Lona abandon the Alpha?”

The seven-year-old child asked, pulling the blanket up to his neck, looking at his mother who was telling him a bedtime story along with his sister, who was listening quietly.

The mother sat between their beds, with both children snuggled under the blankets, enjoying the warmth that enveloped them, ignoring the snow that had covered the city, making everything appear white.

The snow fell silently from the sky to the ground, not making a sound. Its beauty wasn’t in its color or shape, but in the tranquility it brought with it, covering the souls of the people.

The mother sighed, lost in thought, as there was no answer to her son’s question. She lowered her gaze absentmindedly.

“I don’t know… No one knows.”

She finished softly, almost talking to herself.

“By your grace, Mother, it’s the most exciting part of the story! How can you not know?!”

The child complained, kicking the bed in frustration, his face showing signs of displeasure. How could she not know the story of her Alpha?

It was the most famous story circulating in the city for the past three years! And no one knew the reason—this was truly disappointing.

“Don’t complain, John! Maybe he betrayed her, who knows?” This was his sister’s response, a six-year-old, shaking her head nonchalantly.

The mother sighed and stood up, walking toward them before turning off the lights and leaving their room. She found her husband, Russo, standing in front of her, arms crossed over his chest in displeasure.

“I don’t like the stories you tell the kids every night.”

She stood on her tiptoes, approaching him to kiss his cheek.

“By your grace, Russo, you’re the most important man to the Alpha and fully aware of his life, yet you refuse to tell me why she ran away from him!”

Russo shook his head, disapproving of what he was hearing. He was the third in command of Ares, his friend, and the keeper of his secrets. He had sworn to himself never to reveal the Alpha’s secrets to anyone—even if that person was his wife and companion!

“He didn’t betray her. It’s bigger than these trivial things. Don’t pay attention to the stories you hear from the women in the city every day, and stop trying to get me to tell you.”

He finished his words firmly, lowering his head to her level and kissing her forehead lovingly. He wrapped his arm around her waist as they walked toward their room, turning off the lights in the other rooms.

People walked in their leather shoes, their steps echoing in different directions through the tall buildings, massive houses, and luxury shops.

With their wandering minds, tangled thoughts and goals, and their difficult lives. Among them, there was a teenager who loved to play and jump here and there, living her day to the fullest as if she were going to die tomorrow.

Among them, an elderly man in well-tailored clothes and a classic hat, tossing it carelessly onto the table, placing one foot over the other while finishing his morning coffee, sitting in his favorite café, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere around him.

He stood up, wearing his heavy winter coat, holding his hat from the table with his wrinkled hand and placing it on his head. He walked, leaning on his cane, relying on it due to his age, frailty, and inability to walk, asking for help from it.

Among the crowds, massive screens rose from every building, varying in size and shape, displaying ads for skincare products or some global fashion brands.

But on this very day, every year, these screens counted down. All of them, without exception.

The countdown for the strongest city among five hundred others. Cities raced against each other to secure a spot in the top ten, gaining respect and protection from attacks by other cities to avoid becoming prey for the human wolves.

On this day, all cities stood guilty, fearing their rankings would drop.

The elderly man stopped at the threshold, lifting his head to the sky with eyes that could no longer see clearly. His gaze landed on the giant flying saucers above the city.

Three flying saucers of different sizes. Two were medium-sized, while the third, which covered half the size of the city, was dark-colored with shades of black, and there were lights surrounding the vehicle, enough to light up the whole city in case of a power outage.

A lot had happened in this world, and the laws of nature, as well as humans, had changed. Supernatural beings had come out to the world and revealed themselves. Now, humans could transform into any creature they desired after reaching the age of eighteen.

There were many governments now. One managed the affairs of humans who rejected transformation, while another governed the transformed beings, including vampires, werewolves, and other supernatural creatures.

The two worlds adapted into one circle and accepted each other. Some, however, refused to submit to the idea of transformation and remained as they were.

The elderly man sighed, continuing his way, relying on his cane from time to time, a small smile forming on his face as he looked at the giant screen above him.

He read the name of their leader aloud.

“Ares Salazar.”

The Alpha had made sure in the last three years to hold the top spot in strength and power, coinciding with the disappearance of his other half, which had puzzled everyone!

Questions arose. It was strange for his wife to disappear amidst all these events when they had been ranked four hundred and fiftieth among five hundred cities.

“Nothing here, Sir.”

The young man, appearing to be in the middle of his third decade, stated with a steady tone while standing before his superior.

He was in the middle of a street crowded with many men wearing the same black attire, with tight belts extending from their shoulders to their chests, carrying weapons within them.

The other man muttered indifferently, turning his back on him and lowering his head in confusion. Here they were, adding another city to their Alpha’s territory in search of his runaway companion.

He reached into his black coat, pulling out a cigarette and placing it between his lips, narrowing his eyes in frustration as he said in a calm tone:

“Do you have a lighter?”

He spoke strangely, pressing his lips to the cigarette as much as possible to prevent it from falling. The man nodded and pulled a lighter from his pocket, tossing it to the other.

He sighed lightly, closing his eyes as he continued to smoke, releasing the smoke into the air.

A man with pale white skin, who would appear dead to anyone looking at him, if not for his breathing and speaking. His hair was thick and jet black, with crimson red eyes that told everyone he was a vampire. His muscles were well-defined, and his tall stature made the veins in his arms stand out, showing under his pale skin.

He was “Salvatore Cortes,” the right-hand man of Ares Salazar and his beta.

Everyone wonders why Ares, a vampire, chose him as his beta, especially considering the constant conflict between the two factions. This made their city unacceptable to most rulers due to the diversity of its factions—werewolves, witches, vampires, and fairies.

Salvatore reached into the pocket of his black pants, pulling his long coat aside to retrieve a small square device, pressing some buttons to display a blue screen in front of his face.

“City thirty-one, mission failed. No trace of the subject.”

Salvatore sighed, speaking softly before turning off the video, his eyes empty.

“I’m sorry, my friend...”

He pressed the shut button to send the message to the higher-ups—his leader and close friend.

The other man rubbed the left side of his chest and massaged his eyes with his fingers.

“I told you to quit smoking. It ruins your system.”

One of his soldiers patted Salvatore on the shoulder, expressing his annoyance with the cigarettes.

“City thirty-one, mission failed. No trace of the subject. I’m sorry, my friend...”

“City thirty-one, mission failed. No trace of the...”

A hand reached toward the table, turning off the device, cutting off Salvatore’s voice and plunging the library back into silence.

A man sat behind a table filled with smart electronic devices, notebooks, and pens organized in a way that suggested the person who arranged them had obsessive-compulsive disorder.

He was absentminded, his features impossible to decipher. No one could interrupt the stream of his thoughts, as if their tongues had been tied. They watched as his fingers reached toward his head, massaging his temple, hiding his eyes with the palm of his hand from the others.

His lips refused to speak or reveal his feelings, as usual.

He thought deeply about where he had gone wrong. It had been a long time. He had searched all the cities, the homes, the nursing homes, and even the hospitals.

But no trace of her! He was bombarded with questions. Where is she hiding? Why can’t he track her, despite having marked her? Why did her scent disappear as if she had never existed?

Some say she has already died. But if that were true, his wolf would have felt it.

The trackers stood in a row in front of their Alpha, their heads raised and faces devoid of expression.

Ares lowered his hand from his weary eyes, which were shadowed with exhaustion.

He lifted his gaze toward them, standing tall as he towered over them.

“You may leave.”

He said these words indifferently, unaffected by their reactions, dismissing them to be alone again, just like every time he failed to find his companion, his other half.

He turned his back and stood before the giant window that enveloped the back of his office, with the city’s lights creeping in from outside. He looked down at the cars and flying vehicles hovering around them.

The lights reflected on his face, which bore a scar behind his ear that extended down to his jaw, marking the contours of his face from the side.

He rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, revealing the tattoos that covered his entire arm, extending to his wrist, ensuring that no part of his body was left exposed.

He then shoved both hands into his black pants pockets after violently unbuttoning the front of his shirt, dragging it as though it was too tight around his neck, frowning as if a rope were wrapped around it. Perhaps this imaginary rope was his guilt, circling around him!

He heard the sound of something small fall, looking down to notice the first button missing from his shirt. He touched the spot where it used to be, and his thoughts wandered back to his girl, who used to always care about his appearance.

She cared about even the smallest problems that concerned him, refusing to send his clothes to the tailor to fix them, knowing he couldn’t afford it back then.

Flashback

“Careless as usual, Ares!”

Audela muttered angrily as she looked at the middle button in her palm, far from his shirt.

“What do you want me to do? These clothes are stupid and don’t fit me.”

He finished his words coldly, throwing his coat onto the ground carelessly and lying down on the medium-sized bed with its simple design.

He stared at the ceiling of the room, which was simple, not luxurious. His white wardrobe, the medium-sized bed, and the curtains covering only the window.

Then, he heard Audela’s angry mumbling:

“You’re stupid and can’t control your anger. Do you think I didn’t notice that when you get angry, you pull at your shirt collar violently? Careless fool...”

He sighed lightly as he watched her begin to sew his clothes as she always did.

Anger overtook his face, wanting to escape this place, the low status of his pack, and the disdainful looks from the upper-class people.

They looked at them as if they were dirt stuck to the soles of their shiny leather shoes.

END Flashback

His stream of memories was interrupted by the sound of the door opening, followed by Russo entering.

“Here you are, dressed in black again,” Russo said in dissatisfaction, looking at the darkness of the room, which would be entirely dark were it not for the light coming from outside.

Ares lowered his hand from his collar, putting it back in his pants pocket without turning to face him.

“I don’t need to hear what you have to say, but I must remind you...

You need to stop colonizing cities. You’ve burdened yourself with the responsibility of new people... You know there’s another snowstorm heading towards the cities.”

Ares raised his sharp gaze upwards, looking at the massive vehicles. He had just remembered that he needed to renew his agreement with Pavlos, the captain of the ships.

“I know you’re eager to meet Audela again, but you’re a leader before you’re a husband. You have to bear the responsibility for all these fools wandering around...”

Ares turned to face Russo, his tall frame and massive body, gained through training and the transformation that had occurred over time.

Russo looked at his leader’s indifferent face, free of unnecessary emotions, in his well-groomed clothes that screamed of their luxury, and his neatly styled hair that exposed his forehead. Everyone knew Ares and his responsible personality, always focused on what was best for his territories.

He had even gained more fame after his transformation into a Lycan. His physique had changed—he became bulkier, taller, and even his wolf’s appearance had changed. He held strength in one hand and fame in the other.

And everything on his mind was that maybe... just maybe... his external appearance, his good looks, his wealth, and his power would somehow be enough for Audela to forgive him and return to him, forgetting his mistakes.

Ares knew how true the other’s words were. He was well aware of when the next snowstorm was coming. He understood the difficulty of his situation in terms of resources.

He had to provide the necessary heating for the homes, or else he would only be a leader of corpses.

Now, he had burdened himself with another city and an increasing number of fools to lead.

“When will the expert arrive?”

He asked, thinking that he needed to meet with Pavlos and the expert as soon as possible if he wanted the other side to renew their contract with him.

“She will arrive soon,” Russo answered, continuing,

“What kind of expert is she anyway? Why don’t they have any pictures of her?”

Ares sighed in frustration. Russo was right. How could a famous expert not have a picture or even a record of her institution?

But again, why was he surprised? This was Pavlos’s way of doing things, keeping information about his employees and workers under wraps.

“And also, where is Rosa? Bring her back here. We need to gather all our forces before the storm hits.”

He exhaled in discomfort, wondering where his sister was. He seemed like a father chasing after his children to bring them back home.

Above, where the massive vehicles are stationed,

Pavlos is in one of them, giving instructions to his crew to land in an area free of houses and people.

Ares had designated this place for takeoff and landing after striking a deal with him.

Pavlos understands the importance of meeting with Ares again to discuss the deal, but he will delay it until their next landing. For now, he’s waiting for the arrival of the expert who will handle takeoffs from now on.

“When will Lady Elara arrive? She’s already late.”

He added in a gruff voice, looking at his watch, waiting for any aircraft to land or even a car to approach them.

Everyone knows that Elara is a dedicated lady in her work. Her reputation has spread across work centers for her intelligence and her ability to take charge. Recently, she was assigned to work with Pavlos’s team, and the latter welcomed the idea, eager to meet this lady who had fixed most of the issues with the flying ships.

“Have I met her before, sir?” His assistant asked with confusion, as she had never set foot in the capital center before.

Pavlos shook his head, signaling that he hadn’t met her.

...

Elsewhere, a 24-year-old girl hurriedly runs after forging her mother’s identification card, which contains her ID number, allowing her to board the flying ships.

She hung the card around her neck, rushing to her car, thinking that her mother, Elara, was in another country, which would give her time to reach the ship and board before her mother, using her name.

She is Ophelia, a girl desperate to meet Pavlos for a matter she deems critical to her life. He’s the only one who can answer her questions.

She drove hurriedly towards the takeoff and landing area, silently hoping that her mother’s plane wouldn’t land before hers.

After a while, she saw the flying ship signs along the side of the road, smiling with joy as she realized she had arrived at her destination.

She parked her car in a disorganized and crooked manner, getting out hastily, forgetting to unfasten her seatbelt. She quickly turned to go back, bumping into the seat and groaning in pain.

“Damn, that hurts!”

All of this unfolded under Pavlos’s watchful eyes, who was puzzled by this reckless girl. He shook his head indifferently. He was here to meet Lady Elara and leave.

Ophelia straightened herself, closed the car door, and looked around for her target. Her eyes landed on Pavlos, of course. He was well-known throughout the country.

He was the captain of the largest and most powerful ship among the three, with a high IQ. Rumor had it that he scored a 190 on the IQ test.

She admired him as she saw a tall man wearing a black suit and straps that tightened around his chest and back, with olive skin and distinctive eyes. She had always seen this kind of eye color—yellowish-hazel—but what stood out most were the sharp glares he directed at the workers.

She approached him, extending her hand to introduce herself, telling her first lie to them, hiding her real name and using her mother’s name instead.

“Hello, I apologize for the delay. You must have been here for a long time. My name is Elara Marx.”

To be continued...

We’re back! 🌝🖐 A new story, a new beginning, and new characters! ✨

And we’re back with some wicked endings 😂😈.

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Ares is our new hero. What do you think his sin is? 👀

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