Alpha Ryker's Little Witch novel Chapter 1

My eyes swept over the dark green forest with steady ancient majestic trees standing tall on the ground. The deep-sea of dark green plant life had a calming effect on my eyes, mind, and soul. It was always amazing to look at the green moss engulfing the tree barks every time I came here. 

I always spent most of my free time in this particular part of the forest, away from the prying and judgemental eyes of my pack members. It was my perfect getaway from the busy life in the pack.

The treetops swayed in the wind, crashing and bumping against each other. There was something peaceful about sitting on the crinkly forest floor, resting my back on gnarled tree bark.

I lifted my face, staring at the canopy that only allowed afternoon scattered sun rays to filter through. The minimal mellow sun rays penetrated through the different shades of green leaves, lighting up the ground with polka dots.

The pack members avoided this part of the forest, but I loved it. It meant that I wouldn't deal with werewolves running or passing by and disturbing my peace. The werewolves were creatures of absolute freedom and suckers for nature, especially forests. While they enjoyed stretching by going for runs and hunting, they didn't like passing by here.

They knew where there was enough prey to satisfy their hunting thrill. Lucky for me, this wasn't one of the prey invested places. Most pack members didn't like me obviously because I was not of their kind. I was the only witch amongst them, and it had remained so since my parents passed away.

What the pack didn't know was that I could tell each one of them what their hearts harboured. Their characters were made visible and clear only to me by small clouds that hovered over each and every one heads.

Some pretended to be kind-hearted and loving, but their clouds, which were grey in colour showed something different. Something more sinister and full of malice. Each colour of the clouds represented their character's traits.

I saw through each of their facades, but never once did I let them know. It was my secret, a secret that mum had begged me on her death bed to guard and protect. She had made it clear that my mate would be the only person that I could trust.

I had learnt how to block the clouds images over time. I had mastered the art of switching off the part of my mind that projected all these images.

I only switched it on once in a while, usually when I wanted to put my mind to work.

Seeing people's character wasn't the only gift I possessed. I had a lot more like I could use my fingers to light up a fire and put it off. I could move things with my mind but that always ended up draining energy from my body. Healing was also a gift I had, the side effects depended on the extent of the sickness.

I watched as birds twittered and flew from tree to tree, landing gracefully on the branches. I enjoyed listening to their dulcet songs, the melody always brought forth a smile on my face.

The woodsy smell of the forest floor was unique, obviously caused by the fallen rotting tree branches. I drew in a long breath, breathing in the earthly scent as I enjoyed the gentle caress of the cool breeze on my cheeks.

This was indeed satisfactory, away from the insults and the recurrent rude remarks. Goddess knew I needed this peaceful alone time once in a while. I had never wronged anyone in the pack, in fact I had only helped them. Time and time again I would help heal the injured pack members, especially the warriors.

But as the saying goes the gratitude of a donkey is a kick. It was of no use to think about them when nature was capable of making me smile. Perhaps their ill-treatment towards me would someday come to an end, just like the leaves that fall on the ground and gradually rot, with new ones sprouting on the trees. 

I was so lost in my thoughts when I heard the crunching of the crinkly leaves and grass. Listening in closely, I could determine the number of footsteps padding on the ground.  There were at least two people moving towards my direction.

I didn't want to risk anything, It could have been a bad person and there was no way I was waiting there to find out. I could have held my own and defended myself but I always avoided such situations. I hated confrontations with my whole being and today wasn't going to be the day where I suddenly liked them.

In an instant, I jumped on the lowest branch, gripping it with the right hand. The left hand was on the trunk with my thighs on either side of it.  I had done this so many times with my late father, I had no problems using my upper body force and calves to push myself up the tree. I climbed up gracefully and quickly to avoid being seen by the approaching party.

The tree was bushy, it's dark green leaves were so big making it easy to hide in between them and go unnoticed. I  always masked my scent, so nobody would detect me up here, werewolf or not. 

I made myself comfortable on one of the branches, behind the leaves, once I was further up from the ground and on the tree. I was confident no one would see me here unless they were specifically looking for me.

Even before I looked down to the ground, I heard weak despairing feminine whimpers. The sounds were so soft feeble, they were barely audible. When I finally looked down, my eyes grew wide as they fed on and took in the scene. The shock however wore off quickly though and was replaced by uncensored anger.

Below, on the ground was a petite girl, quite around my height, maybe 5ft0. She was a sobbing mess, with her arms tied behind her back with what seemed like a rope.

Her clothes were torn and tattered clearly by claws. Her brown hair stuck on her face, some strands caught in between her thin pale lips.

A stench of dried blood hit my nose, my eyes confirming by just looking at her bruises on her arms and legs.

A large hand with a venous arm was gripping her right elbow, holding her in place. Her feeble attempts to break free from the monster of a man were futile. She was firmly held and clearly, there wasn't going to be a miraculous escape for her. The owner of the hand was a tall individual, 6 feet or more.

Even from this height, I could see how his eyes bulged out of their sockets. I could tell that his nose was slightly crooked even from this angle. His hair was surprisingly kempt, but the menacing smile his lips formed was clearly that of a dangerous person.