Alpha's Wolfess Hybrid Turned Luna

Alpha's Wolfess Hybrid Turned Luna

ibrahimbashiru20244 · Ongoing · 58.0k Words

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Introduction

My name is Heather Williams and I ran away from my destiny. I ran away from the Reds, my pack, when I was fourteen. After many months of surviving in the woods and on the streets, pick-pocketing and snatching purses to live, I finally found a lovely couple who offered to take me in.
If I could call them lovely.

Carol and Phil are a couple in their late forties who are rich and influential. They live in Los Angeles so that should describe their social status. Getting adopted by them introduced me to the dark world of celebrities and many rich people and their fetishes. Carol and Phil own a whole BDSM industry fixated on training willing girls to be submissive and find their own wealthy Dom. As a way of asking me to pay them back for their generosity, I had to be one of those girls. I was sold to two hot men who were ready to take me on a sexual adventure. Darren and Kyle did not only succeed in opening me up to the BDSM world but also brought me back to my past as they were both the Alpha and Beta of the Reds.

My name is Heather Williams and this is my destiny.

Chapter 1

Get her! Make sure she doesn't cross the gates.” A loud voice crashed alongside the thunder as it rained heavily on a random Tuesday night.

No, it wasn't random. It's never been. Not when I had almost a hundred wolves behind me in a hot chase in the woods. I ran like my life depended on it because it did. I ran because I knew if I ever relaxed a muscle, I'd be dinner for the Rogues tonight.

So I ran. I kept running until my muscles felt like a million needles were pricking at them and my bare feet could feel the wet ground breathing against them. I didn't care for the mud water splashing against my clothes, my face or my hair. As long as it's not my blood, I was good.

The sky was dark but not as dark as my life as a Hybrid. A half-wolf and half-witch, my late mother being from the Witch. I never knew my mom. According to my dad who was eventually killed for being a traitor who fell in love with a witch, I was the cause of my mother's death. She died during childbirth. Therefore, I was cursed.

And he may have been right because I am a curse to myself. I didn't have a wolf and I sure knew I wouldn't live long to find out if I was a late bloomer. Not with these wolves at my tail.

“Wake up, Heather, or you'll be late for work.” A familiar voice called out from the dark night, a contrast to my nightmare.

That's what this was because the moment I blinked, the night sky had been covered in a bright white blanket.

I groaned. “Can I have five more minutes? And what's with raising the curtains? You don't have to do that, Maria.”

“I have to and you know it. Miss doesn't like it when you sleep in especially when she knows you're supposed to be at work.”

She was right. I should be at work now and not huddled up in my queen sized bed, snoring away.

“Fine.” I drawled, jumped down the bed and rushed over to the shower.

After a couple of minutes in the hot shower, washing and drying my hair, I put the wavy mess of hair up in a ponytail. I didn't like anything about my hair and everyone made me feel like I was right. It was a boring colour of chestnut brown.

Many times, Carol had suggested I bleached it blonde.

“It would attract more men to you when you dance.” She'd often say.

But I don't want to bleach it. Not because of my love for my natural hair. I was just afraid my hair would fall off if any wrong chemical touched it and I respected how full and thick it was despite it being “boring” to want to shed it off. I dressed up in a pair of denim shorts, black heels and a white crop top before going downstairs to meet with my adopted parents.

“Hi, Carol! Hi, Phil!” I greeted them cheerfully, joining them at the table that looked like there was a feast going on.

It always physically hurt me seeing how much food the chefs would make every morning only to have them dumped in the trash because Carol was watching her weight. I never cared about mine anyway so I always ate as much as possible before it got trashed. Thankfully, I had a fast metabolism.

“Good morning, Sunshine. Hope you slept well.” Phil answered without raising his head from the papers before him.

“You're up late, Heather.” Carol interjected, her grey eyes shooting daggers at me.

I chuckled nervously. “Not that late. I'll just grab a sandwich…actually two…maybe three, and leave.” I ended up grabbing the whole plate and putting them in a takeaway bag before leaving for work.

Savvy Hotel and Bar was my place of work. During the day, I wait tables and at night, I do a little pole dancing on the side. Both moments present two different personalities. I loved dancing at night. That way, I could express myself without fear as I knew the men would put money on anything with two cherries and a hole underneath. As long as you're pretty and you have a flexible body, both attainable with makeup and enough practice.

“Hey, girl,” a coworker, Sasha, greeted me with a half-hearted smile.

I waved back before joining her behind the counter. We weren't really close but she would often cover for me whenever I needed to leave work for the hospital. In return, I'd give her some of the money I make from dancing at night and a drink. That was enough for both of us, at least. We didn't need to be friends.

Speaking of friends, my heart churned as I remembered it's been a while since I visited the hospital.

"Um...Sasha?"

"Just go." She said without looking up and I squeezed her arm gently while mumbling a thank you.

I grabbed my bag and left through the back door. The drive to the hospital was only an hour long and going back there brought tears to my eyes everytime. The smell of antiseptic almost made me gag as I went through the white walls to see the doctor first.

"Doctor Ethan?"

"Hey, Heather. Come in and sit down." I sat from across the middle aged doctor whose hair had turned a greyish-white colour like he tinted it. "You see, I know you're trying your best for your friend but, I just want to tell you that you don't have to keep pushing."

"What do you mean?"

"She has stage two lung cancer that is slowly growing into stage three. If it gets to that stage, she will have less than five years to live with very effective medications on standby." My heart kept beating fast as I listened to the doctor speak, his voice slowly becoming muffled.

My best friend and childhood friend might have a chance of being diagnosed with having a terminal illness. She would slowly die in my arms and I'll forever feel guilty for letting her feel pain for so long because I couldn't let her go. There is no way I'm letting her go.

As I slowly drag myself to her ward, the sound of beeping machines and people walking drowned by my thoughts, I remembered how many times she's saved my ass.

She had been behind bars countless number of times for petty thievery in a pharmacy and supermarkets when I was sick. What about the many knife fights with bigger boys who would want to take whatever little we got. Now that she was on the other end, there is no way I'm giving up on her.

I entered her ward and saw my friend, lanky and sickly, laying on the bed. A vibrant human now having life get sucked out of what was left of her body. Her dark hooded eyes fluttered open and she cracked a painful smile as she saw me.

"Hey, besto."

I chuckled, swallowing bitterly as I stopped myself from bursting into tears. There's no way I'm telling her what the doctor said.

"Hey, Lilian." I settled on the edge of her bed. "How are you doing?"

"How do you think, Hed?" Her smile was now replaced with a frown. "I don't think I'm getting any better. I should have listened to you. I should have followed you."

I nodded. "You had your reasons. And I respected that."

"My reasons were stupid and you know it. I just wanted to stick to smoking..." She coughed and wheezed for a prolonged time that got me worried for a second. "Only...only if I had listened," she spat into a napkin in her hand. "Now those cracks and weed are catching up to me."

I squeezed her hand gently as I felt a tight squeeze around my chest. I could barely breathe and so I held it in because I knew a slight exhale would make me burst into tears. I couldn't bear to watch my best friend suffer. It didn't matter that she was addicted to drugs or alcohol. She was a good person who didn't deserve to die. I leaned down and kissed her bald head.

"Get better for me." I managed to blurt out strongly although my shaky voice betrayed me.

I hurriedly went out and walked down to Dr. Ethan's office. "How do we stop her cancer from growing?"

"I already told you before, Heather. A surgery. The chemotherapy isn't doing much."

"But I don't have that much to pay for surgery!"

He raised a brow as if suggesting I was lying. I shook my head. "I can't ask them for that. They can't know I'm still in touch with Lilian."

"You can just ask. You never know, Heather. Your parents are rich..."

"They aren't my parents!" I snapped, letting my overwhelming emotions get the best of me. "Sorry. I...I just can't. Do something, Doctor. Give her more pills or anything to kill this thing."

He looked at me with pity dancing in his dark eyes. "Sorry, Heather. That's all I can suggest. More pills will only make things worse."

I walked out of his office looking enraged and heavy with sorrow that I didn't know when I bumped into someone huge. I didn't look back despite how much I could feel his gaze piercing my back.

The rest of the night got me slouching and constantly forgetting to smile as I danced.

"Smile, beautiful, and maybe you might be worth a dollar more." Other men laughed but I didn't care. I've been doing this for far too long to care about what some douche had to say.

After a long night with less than three thousand dollars made, I went back home, tired.

I climbed the staircase and when I got to the hallway leading to my room, I turned on the switch and almost jumped out of my skin.

"Carol!" I cried in a harsh whisper. "You scared me."

"We need to talk." I clutched an invisible pearl necklace the moment she said that because I knew what this meant.

She'd been giving different signs since I turned eighteen, asking me to join her BDSM sexual community. It was a kind of a glorified prostitution business except some of the women are not just into it for the money. I'd seen many willing older women join this community without the knowledge of their husbands because they aren't being sexually satisfied. I wasn't a saint but I just wasn't interested in joining. Something about Carol being the head of it made it seem spooky. Like it was just a cover for something really going on underneath.

"Yes?" I asked as we both settled in the study room, sitting across from each other.

"I know we have had this discussion before, when you turned eighteen. And you declined, rightfully so." She started, body leaning leisurely against the chair. "You'll be twenty four tomorrow and I'm asking you again, Heather, to join my community."

I'd almost forgotten my birthday was coming up. I thought she'd forget this topic after I'd said no six years ago but here she was bringing it up again. Now, I may not have much of a chance as she'd done many things without asking me for a dime in return.

"And if I say no?" I asked but her grey unsmiling eyes shooting arrows at me answered my question.

A corner of her lips lifted in a dark smile. "You wouldn't."

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