No Alpha, I Do Not Like Your Abs

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Summary

Never heard of werewolves? Lucky you. You've been living under a goddamn rock. Please, take me with you. They took over on June 17th, 2020. Due to the fact that the odds of a female werewolf being born are next to none, they began to take human mates. And that's where this whole mess began, with a werewolf trying to shove his way into my life.

Genre:
Fantasy / Romance
Author:
that_huntress
Status:
Ongoing
Chapters:
5
Rating:
n/a
Age Rating:
16+

Prologue

When the government fell, I remember watching cartoons.

Just me and my mom, sitting on the couch and watching TV. I believe it might have been Phineas and Ferb, but I can’t quite remember. All I remember is my mom humming a quiet tune in my ears, slightly brushing my hair with her fingers. The house was calm and quiet, and so were we.

Until the TV changed.

Abruptly, our nightly cartoons flipped to a frantic reporter. Her eyes were wide, and she was frivolously flipping the papers on her desk. Headlines flew across the screen, too fast for my young eyes to process. A flurry of people were rushing behind her, which seemed strange to me. I was only 6 at the time, but I understood that this was out of the ordinary.

I looked back at my mom in question, but her expression revealed nothing. The only thing present on her face were pursed lips plain as she reached for the remote and turned up the TV.

The next words I heard would change the world forever

"We are now getting reports of a potential attack at the Werewolf- Human peace accords in Paris. There have been multiple explosions, and emergency calls have been reported in great numbers. We now go to Hailey, who is reporting live from near the Accords.”

The camera switched to a lady with bright blonde hair standing in front of a gray sky. A plume of smoke rose from behind her as screams echoed in the background. Somehow, she had managed to stay composed.

"Yes David, it seems there has been an attack at the Paris Peace Accords. There are at least 10 confirmed casualties on scene, with many reports coming in. We cannot completely confirm who are injured just quite yet, but there are reports of some major leaders that have been attacked. As new information comes in, we will continue to update you. Back to you, David.”

I looked up to my mom in question.

“Mommy, isn’t daddy in Paris right now?”

“Hush Taylor,” she said, bringing me into her chest. “Mommy’s listening right now.”

Words continued to flash across the screen in bright letters, and photos that were so bad that my mom covered my young eyes. I still managed to peek through her slim fingers, and cringed at the gore filled mess in front of me. Finally, it flashed back to the reporter.

"Yes David, we now have 13 confirmed kills. Some of those confirmed are the Prime Minister of Britain, the Prime Minister of Canada, the President of the USA, and many others. And it seems that a party has taken responsibility for this attack. It is none other than the Werewolf Union, who were there to sign the peace treat themselves. This has come as a shock to many, as it was them who proposed the treaty in the first place. This attack seems to have been planned, but there is no confirmation as of this point. For now, we will flash the photos of the confirmed deceased across the screen.”

My mom began to shake as the pictures began scrolling across the screen. I recognized a few from my limited kindergarten education, but not many. I returned to fiddling with my fingers.

I didn’t know much about the werewolves at that time. Sometimes my mom and dad would mention them in casual conversation, mentioning how relations are strained and such. My dad worked for the Department of Defense, and was constantly travelling in order to help strained relations.

Suddenly, our home phone rang. My mom tore her eyes from the TV and answered it.

“Hello, is this the Amsterdam residence?” asked the muffled voice through the phone.

“Yes, this is it,” my mom replied, continuing to glance at the TV.

“This is Tyler with the Department of Defense, and I regret to inform you...”

But he didn’t need to finish his sentence. The last picture, the 13th picture, I recognized. I screamed, and my mom whipped her face towards the TV.

The 13th picture was none other than my dad.

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