The Alpha Wolf's Baby Foals

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Chapter 1

All Marcus wanted was a strong beer, a steak dinner and a place to stay for a few nights. It'd been too long since he'd enjoyed the luxuries of civilization since he'd been on this last hunt.

When I escape, I'll see to it that you pay for humiliating me. Vardon, the were-fox bandit leader of the Red Claws, promised as he struggled against his were-beast chains.

Marcus rolled his eyes. The threats were so familiar, sworn by everyone whom he'd brought to justice. If he'd had a copper piece for every time he heard them, he wouldn't need to risk his neck as a bounty hunter, he'd live a life of leisure.

He rode his blue roan stallion underneath the arches of the city as he scanned all the alphas and omegas as they carried on with their lives.

Some looked warily at him as the bandit king trotted alongside him, panting from walking so far.

Many alphas cheered and offered him a free beer. The city dwellers wouldn't have to live in fear of being robbed, beat up or even killed at Vardon's whim anymore.

Omegas waved at him and blew him kisses. Some of the bolder ones rushed up and touched him, their eyes glowing with admiration.

Marcus liked the attention of the crowds, but he hadn't completed his mission. Not until he handed this outlaw over to the city's sheriff, then his job would be complete.

The horse's hooves struck the cobblestones, sounding like ringing bells. He brushed dust from his leather armor, thinking of simple pleasures.

His stomach grumbled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in a week. All his mind could focus on was a hot meal and a strong glass or two of ale.

Make way for Lord Lardaris! The greatest alpha in the world. Shouted a lowly slave, walking ahead of his master, throwing rose petals on the ground. Ten bodyguards walked beside the chariot.

Marcus grumbled at having to wait and let this fat cat pass before him. His horse tossed his head as if he was just as impatient.

A tall, regal were-tiger peered over the throngs of unwashed peasants as if they were mere insects. The alphas and omegas cheered in worshipful homage to their powerful lord.

Marcus noticed that the omega who was announcing his master to all the world and dancing down the street, seemed to be so happy and carefree, but one only had to look a bit closer to see the sadness in his eyes.

The barefooted young man tripped on an uneven stone and fell, spilling the basket of rose petals. Petals swirled and twirled as they fell everywhere, even on the watching crowd.

The people laughed and pointed their fingers at the clumsy slave, enjoying what they knew would come next. Lord Lardaris stepped from his chariot, his golden eyes blazed with an inner inferno, and stalked up to the young man.

Horus, you clumsy, stupid, worthless slave! He roared as he snapped a whip across his slave's back, ripping through his clothes and biting into his flesh.

Blood welled up from the angry wound. The watching people laughed uproariously, enjoying the Lord's punishment. As long as it wasn't them.

Master! It wasn't me who placed that stone there. Horus whimpered as he knelt before his Lord like a submissive dog.

Whip that slave harder. A chubby, well-dressed merchant, yelled.

Marcus felt a bonfire explode in his chest as the were-wolf within him demanded that he slam his fist in the arrogant tiger's face and take off with his slave.

He reined in that passionate emotion, locking it away in his heart. A master had every right to discipline a slave how he wanted. He could whip the flesh off his possession if he wished and even kill him if the master desired.

How could one man own another? Why was slavery legal? Marcus tightened his jaw. He was appalled at the laughing people who were having fun at the slave's expense.

How dare you speak in that tone of voice.

Horus scurried over to the basket, picked it up and then knelt in front of his master.

It's the truth, though, Great Alpha. Horus didn't look into his Lord's eyes.

Be more careful, slave, or I'll flay the hide off your bones. He promised with an evil smile.

I will be more careful, oh Great One. Horus promised, looking up at his master with a fake smile on his lips.

He continued throwing the rose petals with that same fake smile. But nothing could hide the depression and hopelessness in his eyes.

The procession carried on as if nothing had occurred.

Behind the chariot, slaves followed, leading many bulls, goats and swine for the temple sacrifice. Others carried ducks, geese, peacocks and quails in gilded cages made of gold.

So much to give the Gods! No wonder you are so blessed by them. An omega, dressed in rags, shouted for all to hear.

Marcus watched them ride by and the crowds cheered his name as if he were a God. When he'd passed, he urged his horse forward.

Some people have all the luck. Not only does he have money, but he also runs the slave ring, selling omegas to eager alphas. He's got so much and I have to work hard at being a thief. Vardon cursed under his breath.

Marcus would bet the Lord did other illegal acts which he hid in the shadows. Too bad owning slaves wasn't against the law or he'd bust him just for that.

In his opinion, no alpha had the right to own another. Even an omega. Too bad the law didn't agree with his assessment.

Stopping at the sheriff's office, he led his prisoner up the stairs. The were-fox struggled, knowing that his fate would be sealed, he'd be hanged and the crowds would gather around and jeer at him.

Here. He handed the were-fox over to the sheriff.

The tall man gave him a leather bag full of gold. Marcus smiled, feeling its hefty weight in his hand.

He counted his reward as the fox was dragged away, kicking and shouting. Once he had made sure it was all there, he turned to leave.

Wait! There is another mission if you want to do it. The sheriff spoke up, a little too quickly.

Marcus turned to face the man, knowing by his tone of voice that it was far more important than even the last one he turned in. He liked the challenge of the hunt and this would be the toughest yet.

What is it? Marcus asked casually, curious to know what this job was.

Follow me. The man of the law said.

Why the secrecy? Marcus wondered as he followed the sheriff.

He followed him into a small room and the sheriff looked around as if even the walls might have ears. When he made sure they were alone, he then activated a magical shield so they wouldn't be seen or heard.

Marcus began to salivate at this mission. It was likely a dangerous job, the kind he loved. The were-wolf loved the thrill of the hunt and catching those who broke the law and disrupted society was his bread and butter.

Spill it. He told him, folding his arms over his broad chest.

We've been after Lord Lardaris for a while now. We believe that he's supplying drugs, whores and other illegal activities.

Marcus listened, knowing that they'd sent others, and they hadn't returned. That was the demand of hunting criminals, they'd kill you if given half a chance.

It was a risk he was willing to take, though. The knowledge of the danger charged him with energy.

It's dangerous, but it's yours if you want. The odds are that you are going to die. He said, looking at him with intense gray eyes.

How much? Marcus growled, narrowing his eyes.

He'd do the job for free, but the money went to his armor and weapons. Then for lodging and food. Once everything was taken care of, he'd stash the rest away for his retirement.

No bounty hunter lived forever. Soon, he'd grow old and if he didn't have anything put back, where would that leave him?

He'd learned that from his omega father - one of the greatest bounty hunters that ever lived - who was killed. His sire was always dogged by poverty as he searched for jobs while raising a son.

20,000 gold pieces. The sheriff replied.

For him, that was a ton of money. The most for a hunt so far, but he always considered the risks.

So you want me to go against a were-tiger who you think is doing illegal things for only 20,000? Marcus scoffed.

Could he do such a job and pull it off? That sum was a good one, but against a were-tiger? One tiger could rip up a pack of werewolves in no time flat.

What equipment did he have that would allow him to take on such a worthy foe?

The sheriff tapped his boot on the floor. It was as if he were thinking of something.

All right, 30,000. But that's my final offer.

That sounded much better. Marcus grunted, still pretending to think about the job.

I'll give you half now and half if and when you return. He said, his eyes told the werewolf that he wouldn't bargain with the price any more.

Agreed. Marcus told him. Now he just needed a plan to get inside the house of Lord Lardaris.

Chapter 2

Horus set his bread bowl down on the rickety table with his friends and fellow slaves. Today was pinto bean soup with a tiny bit of ham swimming in it.

What's the special occasion? Tony, one of his friends, asked, drinking from the bread bowl.

The Master made a trade with some guys in the other city. They'll be shipping the drugs through the caravan, pretending to be traders from a far away land. Al said.

No one knows more about the goings-on in a great house than us. We know more information about the working of the city than anyone would think to ask. Al leaned his elbows on the table, taking a bite out of his bread bowl.

That's how they slip past the guards. His other friend laughed, slapping the table with his hand.

Yeah, the Master is the smartest man in all the city. Horus said, his heart as heavy as a boulder.

Horus had been a slave all his life. Even though he was 18-years-old, he never questioned the fact.

His omega father had always told him that he was an omega and was born into slavery. There was no use in fighting fate, he must accept it.

Deep in his heart, though, he yearned for a free life. He'd never admit it, though. Not publicly.

He never would forget that hard, bitter lesson. Horus accepted the fact, and learned to like it, or he tried to convince himself.

After all, slaves were provided for with food, shelter and clothes. The master paid from his pocket to provide for them, so why shouldn't they serve him?

His boyhood friends were here...he had a good life except for when the master got angry.

He was happy. The life of a slave was good. Horus lied to himself. But the lie tasted bitter in his mouth.

They ate their soup while their master dined on swan, steak, roasted boar and all sorts of things. It was a feast for a king.

Horus knew if there were any leftovers, they'd be granted the rare privilege of eating them. It was something that the slaves looked forward to.

The servants had their own meals, maybe not as expensive as the master's, but if there were any scraps, they'd get them.

Did you hear what happened to that escaped slave? Tony asked in a low voice, looking at them both.

What?

They knew, but they wanted to hear it. Their hearts slammed in their chests as they waited with baited breath.

They drew their heads together as they whispered. This was forbidden to speak about, but they did anyway.

His master had him hung in the market place. Tony informed them. Right in front of everyone.

They looked at each other with eyes wide and nodded, knowing that a master has absolute power over the life of his slave. An angry master was liable to kill a rebellious slave just to make an example out of him.

The master is going to bed. A small man entered the room, whistling a happy tune.

There would be no scraps for them tonight.

They rose to their feet. Horus trudged to his small, bare room that had a cot with a cotton sheet and blanket. There was a bar going from wall to wall where his clothes were hung.

He rolled up his blanket and used it as a pillow. It was humid and too hot.

On nights like these, he wished he had someone fanning him, making the night comfortable, like the master did.

He sighed as the chorus of crickets sang to the stars. The young slave tossed and turned as restlessness crawled under his skin.

It's too cold in the winters, too hot in the summers. Horus sighed as he closed his eyes, hoping that he'd quickly drift off to sleep.

Don't beat my omega father! A young boy dashed to his side as his master cracked the whip. He wrapped his tiny arms around him as if he could protect him from the savage lashes.

Horus no! I belong to him. He can beat me anytime he wants! He told his son, pushing him away.

Then his omega sire humbly looked at the master.

Go ahead, master. He glanced at him, then looked away as if he shouldn't gaze upon him.

But...but...

He is our master and we serve him. Son, we are omegas and we are here only to serve our alpha. He said, accepting the savage lash of the whip as it tore through his ragged clothes to the soft skin beneath.

Horus looked on in horror at his omega father standing before his master wiling to obey his every command.

Never had he felt so helpless and small. It was against his omega father's wishes that he should help him. It was his master's right to beat his slaves, even if he didn't like it.

But he knew it was wrong. Even at that tender young age, he knew it wasn't right.

He raced down the hallway, followed by the echo of the whip biting his sire's flesh. Tears flowed from his eyes as he flew onto his cot.

He sobbed out his heart, wanting to do something. In his childish mind, an idea began to form.

Why couldn't he run away and become rich? Then he could come back and buy him out of slavery and set him free.

It was a great idea. He'd do it tonight!

It was late at night that the small boy sneaked into the kitchen. He gathered a sack for some food and water, then put his plan into action.

Throwing his supplies