Claim Me Deeply Alpha

In the radiant morning atmosphere of the Front Range, the enormous gray wolf's exhales created conspicuous puffs of vapor under the sunlight. As he observed the undulating hills in front of him, the early sunbeams glistened through the treetops.

Scattered across the frost-covered landscape were his intended victims, cows, initially gathered for warmth but starting to disperse for their daily sustenance. Today, he would have a satisfying meal.

The absence of humans for several days provided him with the opportunity to swiftly capture a prey and indulge before their return.

Damien had meticulously monitored their routine, as they rode their steeds along the periphery of their territory. Last night, they had loaded their horses onto a trailer and departed, leaving the cattle to roam freely on the hills.

He had to exercise caution when determining the number of cows to target, as excessively frequent visits to a single ranch would provoke human retaliation, leading to their demise.

This had occurred in the past when he had become too complacent in his own domain, arrogantly displaying his dominance over his smaller kin.

Ordinarily, the smaller wolves would not dare attempt to take down a full-size cow, opting instead for a few sheep whenever they could be found. Damien had grown tired of the usual fare of rabbits and field mice consumed by his relatives. Today, they would indulge in the taste of beef.

Already drooling with anticipation, Damien envisioned the satisfaction of sinking his snout into the tender abdomen of a plump cow, relishing the gush of blood to be eagerly lapped up. He trembled with excitement, experiencing a sensation akin to orgasm, then turned to address his pack.

They patiently awaited his command to initiate the chase. Not a muscle twitched without his authorization; they had all learned this from witnessing their former alpha male fall amidst a chaotic deluge of blood and gristle.

Assuming the role of the new alpha male surpassed any previous experience for the smaller wolves. Their ancestral recollections informed them that this giant and his brethren had once ruled over mountains and valleys, but such dominance belonged to the past.

What truly unsettled the pack, however, was the fact that the new alpha male had not claimed any of the females after overthrowing the former alpha.

Traditionally, this would occur with a new alpha assuming control, but this giant deflected the advances of the eager females, growling and nipping at them as they sought to secure a rank within the pack.

Alpha Damien took a final whiff of the morning breeze before signaling the others to commence the hunt.

With the alpha coyote leading the way, the pack dispersed gradually while trotting down the hillside. Moving at a much slower pace than the others, the alpha ensured that there was enough time for the rest of the pack to surround the herd of cattle. Seamlessly, they managed to slip under the unnoticed barbed wire fence, out of sight of the unsuspecting cows.

The alpha chose to stay low amidst the tall grass along the fence line, fully aware that his size and fur color would give away his position too soon. He decided not to give chase until the other coyotes had startled the herd, allowing the slowest one to be separated from the rest.

As the rest of the pack finally found their positions, the beta male made its move. Yet, before it could even take three steps, its head exploded in a violent spray of red and gray, the body convulsing with the force of the explosion.

The valley was then engulfed in the sound of gunfire, with three more coyotes meeting a similar fate, their bodies dropping to the ground with the unmistakable sound of rifle shots thundering through.

An intense surge of adrenaline coursed through the alpha's body, but he fought the urge to flee. If the bullets hadn't struck him yet, then the well-hidden humans couldn't possibly see him.

His muscles tensed under his fur, preparing for flight, but he knew that if he ran now, he would never reach the safety of the tree line before a high-powered rifle bullet would explode his own head.

The rest of the pack had already started their retreat towards the tree line, some of them narrowly avoiding the dirt bursts caused by the wild firing of the humans. Sadly, not all of the pack made it to the tree line, except for a couple.

After several minutes had elapsed, the humans began to emerge from their concealed positions. Damien observed as clumps of grass morphed into upright figures with legs. 'Those conniving individuals!', he thought.

He cautiously positioned himself even deeper into the thick brush along the fence line, ensuring not a single blade of grass would betray his hiding spot.

The sound of laughter grabbed his attention, originating from one of the walking grass heaps that had come within fifty yards of his concealed spot.

"We really showed those bastards, didn't we, boys?"

"Yeah, they won't dare touch our cows again."

"Did you see that first shot? This new rifle is incredible!"

The last voice resonated from the left of Damien. He slowly turned his head, observing the face of the one who had taken down his second-in-command. The towering human had pulled back his grass camouflage, proudly displaying his rifle to the others.

With anger burning in his mind, Damien meticulously engraved every feature of that face into his memory.

Observing the convergence of their band and subsequently witnessing their victor's penitent parade around their vanquished foes, he seized the chance to escape. Swiftly maneuvering out of his hidden position and sprinting towards the cluster of foliage, he heard the shouts of amazement and the profanities uttered by the mortal beings upon realizing their mistake.

The piercing crack of a supersonic bullet whizzed past his head just as he approached the hill's peak. Momentarily thinking he had evaded their line of sight, a stinging, intense torment surged through his side as the second bullet struck its mark.

Damien's left lung immediately filled with blood, rendering it almost impossible for him to inhale. Nevertheless, propelled by adrenaline and the impetus of his speedy pace, he pushed on, conquering the summit of the hill.

Blood spilled from his nostrils as he continued to run, struggling to remain upright, resolute in reaching the refuge of the greenery. Suddenly, another gunshot reverberated as he passed the initial evergreen, causing the bark to burst in his face and momentarily blinding him in his right eye. The agony he felt was almost unbearable, yet he couldn't catch his breath to yelp, focusing solely on his dogged progression.

For an additional minute, Damien persisted in running before being forced to decelerate. Gradually diminishing adrenaline was replaced by heightened agony in his side. Vomiting a considerable amount of blood from his wounded lung, he stopped. Glancing warily behind him, he confirmed that the mortals had abandoned their chase.

Carefully listening for any indications of approaching footsteps or, worse yet, the start of engine noises, he tried to turn his gaze backward, but his vision remained obstructed by the blood still flooding his right eye.

Assured that he remained unchased, he changed his direction, making his way towards the vicinity of a creek located approximately a mile away.

Upon reaching the creek, his body was overcome with exhaustion. Despite his attempts, his left lung continued to seep blood, forcing him to continuously cough it up. Slowly easing himself into the icy water, the shock of its coldness helped to clear his mind, snapping him back to reality amidst the throbbing agony. As the water flushed out his wounds, he noticed that his right eye was still clouded.

Turning his head with caution, his gaze fell upon the wound on his side. Three broken ribs jutted out from the deep gash, the flesh and muscle ripped apart by the force of a hollow point rifle bullet. "This is bad," he thought to himself, finally understanding why he couldn't stop the bleeding.

Gently lowering his snout to the water, he took small sips to ease his parched throat. With his depleted stomach, he knew he needed to replenish the lost fluids soon. After quenching his thirst, he emerged from the creek and glanced at the path he had taken, marked by his bleeding wounds.

Time was running out, he needed to move before the humans caught up to him. Staring at the creek once more, he knew he couldn't stay for long, as the cold water would sap his strength.

Struggling through the water, Damien walked for about half a mile before reaching the other side. The freezing temperature and the distance he had traveled would deter the humans from crossing the creek. His blood still leaving a trail, he made his way into the forest, heading towards the Front Range.

Keeping the valley between the two peaks as his guide, he fought the urge to rest, knowing he needed to put as much distance as possible between him and the guns.

In the blink of an eye, he plunged into a state of trance, mechanically moving one paw after another, gazing into the depths of the valley.

When he finally reached the valley as evening fell, he knew that he had not been followed. The sounds of the woodland were familiar. Glancing at the gash in his side, he could still detect a slow trickle of blood, indicating that his wounds were slowly healing. The frequency of his coughing had decreased, a sign that his insides were starting to mend. However, his right eye remained unresponsive, the constant throbbing pain a reminder of his injury.

The non-functioning eye greatly affected his depth perception, causing him to stumble into trees during his journey. He was aware that as the sun went down and the light faded, his depth perception would only worsen. Still, he pressed on. The further he delved into the woods, the more secure he felt.

It was after walking another five miles that he heard movement to his left. Something larger than a rabbit was lurking in these woods. The wind had died down, making it impossible to smell any potential danger. Pausing, he strained to hear any other clues. Then, the sound of liquid hitting pine needles emanated from a nearby thicket. Damien turned his head towards the source of the sound, only to hear more rustling as a figure emerged from the brush.

A tall woman, her head still bowed as she buttoned her pants, stepped out into the open.

As she took another step, their eyes met. She froze, her hands held out in front of her, about ten feet away from Damien.

The scent of her terror hit him like a slap in the face. The urge to pounce and rip her apart surged through him. In his mind, fear equalled food. However, he was in no condition to launch an attack. Any sudden movements would likely reopen his wound, and he wasn't certain he could withstand the blood loss before any food reached his stomach.

Silence engulfed them as she emerged from the bushes. Interpreting his stillness as a signal that an attack was off the table, she gradually lowered her hands. His watchful gaze ensured she wasn't attempting to retrieve a weapon from her attire.

"Please, I beg of you, do not harm me. I will leave you be if you promise to do the same."

Her voice barely carried above a whisper, her expression now pleading. A lone tear trickled down her cheek. He remained fixed on her with his one good eye, not uttering a word or twitching a muscle. He understood the peril humans posed in moments of panic.

If she possessed a gun, she could deal him a serious blow before he could end her life. He had no desire to suffer any more damage to his already battered body.

"If I offer you sustenance, will you depart from here?"

Her last statement piqued his interest. Food. By all means, yes, I crave food! He chuffed through his jowls, blood spattering from his nostrils. He gradually nodded his head. She flinched at his motion and sound. Then, upon closer inspection of him, he intently monitored her for any deceitful intentions.

"You desire sustenance?"

This time, her tone held a touch more authority, almost reaching a normal level. Once again, he chuffed and nodded his head, hoping this female understood his response. She wore a puzzled expression and tilted her head to the side, mimicking the familiar stance dogs assume when they encounter or hear something perplexing.

This struck him as comical and he couldn't resist, he let out a series of chuffs. But then the pain from his wound struck and he came to a halt abruptly, causing him to cough up more blood. The woman observed this display with a look of shock, which then transformed to concern as she saw him cough up blood and take notice of the gaping wound in his side.

"Oh my goodness! You're wounded! You poor creature!"

It was evident to Damien that her voice was brimming with genuine sentiments this time. He had no doubts about her being a threat now. With great caution, he moved his head up and down, his eyes fixed on her every move. As she cautiously reached for the lower pocket of her coat, he tracked her hand's movement, all the while remaining silent.

Carefully extracting a shiny packet with a combination of red and silver, she showed him that it posed no threat. Damien visibly relaxed, realizing that it was merely a food packet and not another weapon. Seeing this as a positive sign, she slowly peeled it open and retrieved a dark brown bar.

Using her forefinger and thumb, she gently tossed the bar towards him. In response, Damien gave her a stern look, conveying a clear message of "Don't you dare move!" He then lowered his head and sniffed at the bar, the scent instantly triggering memories of elegant ladies in frilly dresses, happily popping little brown balls into their mouths and laughing.

After one last glance in her direction, Damien cautiously picked up the candy and started to chew on it. The taste was sweet, with hints of nuttiness that blended in perfectly. He quickly consumed the food bar and looked at her again.

"Apologies, that's all I have with me."

Her tone revealed her genuine regret for not being able to offer more. Damien continued to observe her, waiting for her next move.

"I have more food at my campsite. If you promise not to attack me, I can offer you more."

This time, her voice exuded more confidence, emboldened by the fact that the massive wolf hadn't harmed her and had somehow understood her. Damien studied her for a few seconds before nodding his head and chuffing through his jowls. She then turned to her left and began to slowly walk in that direction.

Maintaining her eye contact, she watched to see if Damien would follow. After a few paces, he finally took a step forward, allowing her some distance before moving again. He didn't want to scare her off, especially if she was willing to provide him with more food.

With a cautious gaze over her shoulder, she carefully navigated her way back to her camp, mindful of any protruding branches that may cause her to stumble. Upon reaching the edge of the small clearing where her tent was erected, she came upon a shallow hole in the earth with pieces of wood scattered within. Keeping a safe distance, she waited for him to approach, still unsure of his intentions. Despite her promise of food, he remained several feet away, not yet willing to fully trust her.

After a brief staring match, she finally broke the silence.

"Do you really not intend to harm me?"

The tremor in her voice betrayed her lingering fear as she realized she would have to turn her back to retrieve the promised food from inside the tent. He simply tilted his head from side to side in response, causing a chill to run down her spine as she marveled at the fact that the massive wolf seemed to understand her words.

With deliberate movements, she turned and opened the flap of the tent, reaching inside to pull out a large backpack. She carefully unzipped it and extracted a bag of beef jerky, tossing the pieces to him one by one. By the third piece, he had approached close enough to catch them in midair.

When the bag was nearly half-empty, he looked up at her and shook his head to signal that he had had enough. After a few more seconds of locked gazes, he licked his lips and began to cautiously sniff around the campsite, searching for a water source. It was at this moment that a spark of recognition lit up in the woman's eyes, and she realized what he was looking for.

"Oh no! You must be so thirsty after eating all that salty beef. Let me get you a bowl and some water."

Her voice had returned to its normal timbre, devoid of any fear. She opened another pocket on the backpack and retrieved a small silver container, removing all the items inside to place the bowl on the ground.