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Only You Can Be My Alpha

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Louis has never liked being an Omega. Ever since his first heat at the unsuspecting age of thirteen, he has been chasing ways to run from destiny.

As if it wasn’t enough to despise what he was born into, he couldn’t even be what he was correctly. He had never once submitted to an Alpha, even when confronted with their commanding and ensnaring vocal timbre—the howahkan—and ordered to comply directly in his face. Howahkan is the clinical term for that dominant, horridly loud and snappish raise in tone that is incessantly utilized to bring disobedient Omegas to their knees in shame. An unbreakable vow; inescapable order; to every Omega who hears it. Every Omega, save for himself.

Alphas couldn’t control Louis and they hated him for it, but it almost made him laugh—their hatred was nothing in comparison to the searing inferno of disappointment the Omega felt for himself. Nevertheless, the Alphas made the rules, and everything under the sun was their call. Thus, here he was; alone (abandoned) in the middle of a tiresomely overgrown forest, muttering to himself and scrounging the leafy floor for any supper he might find.

His muscles were straining in protest from this hunched and pitiful position he’d spent far too long hunting in, but if he didn’t get anything by sundown, the level of difficulty would prove itself ludicrous. Even if he were to shift to his wolf, his night-vision prowess was laughably nonexistent. He wouldn’t catch a damn thing in the dark. Despite these very reasonable fears, he angrily gave up, taking the loss and falling back against a tree in defeat. The moment he was comfortable, a squirrel bounded across the empty clearing, and he released a cackle of cynical acceptance. I don’t need food.

Unsurprisingly, as it always does when left unattended, his mind wandered to the haunting pit of desolation it perpetually dwelled in, and he found himself regretting every decision he’d ever made up to this point, replaying all those little things he could have done better, done differently, or not done at all.

See, Louis had been irreversibly banished from his home pack—for a many number of reasons—but the ones that stuck out were insolence, disobedience, theft, physical altercations, lying, general disrespect for authority, and frequently slandering the Pack Alpha, regardless of whether Rixon Bahe had it coming every single time or not. Quite the heavy list that had been spoken over his bowed head, icily circling around his neck like his own personal word-noose, stripping him of having any sense of belonging for as long as he lives. And it was entirely his fault.

The list is so much longer, by the way, but he couldn’t possibly remember every black mark he’d committed against the pack laws; he could easier count the rules he had followed. He understood it in hindsight, he’d probably exile himself too, but the banishment ceremony had been unnecessarily humiliating. He had stood atop a sacred stone in the middle of his leering village, surrounded by all three hundred and fifty-two Alphas and Omegas of the Siksika Tribe, like a piece of meat for roast. A large portion of them had even been cheering and dancing in a drum circle, celebrating to the Gods, while he’d shamefully awaited the imminent disownment from his people. Not the fondest last memories he has of them, the rats.

Yet among his entirely too joyous audience there had also stood his crestfallen mother, and the retrospective sight of her was still the rawest, most cuttingly traumatic part of the ordeal. She could do nothing but stare as the situation had unraveled, lest she’d been cast away alongside him, and that was something Louis never would have wanted for her.

So, in turn, Louis had been forced to watch his dear mother silently cry her heart out while he’d tried to console her with his eyes; convey in them just how contrite he truly was. For as he’d been running around breaking rules like twigs, he hadn’t really given much of a thought as to how difficult and depressing it would be for Joéna to live without him, and when he’d finally understood and put that into consideration, it was already too late—and he felt horrible. As a mother of just him, no father to have ever been present, and no other cubs to keep her company, Louis was the only wolf she had. And Louis himself had robbed that from her.

In his prideful defense, Louis never would have expected the expulsion to actually transpire. The banishment ceremony hadn’t been executed in easily over fifty years, and no one in his generation had ever witnessed it. Even more dishonorable for him, the last person to face the backs of the tribe had been a murderer. They were hardly guilty of comparable crimes.

However, a pack member had been removed since then (without the grand ceremony), and this member had been none other than Louis’ own father, for reasons still infuriatingly unknown. A father the Omega had never met, and one his mother would never speak of, but one Louis clearly took after nevertheless. Like father, like son, he mused.

He slammed his head back into the chipped tree bark and squeezed his eyes closed, gripping his shaggy brown hair and whining in despair yet again in the face of his irreparable strife, his actions mirrored to every other time he’s recounted all the details and feelings from that night.




Rixon appeared from his pretentious living quarters, striding toward Louis like an unfeeling predator locked onto its nameless prey. Louis felt no urge to beg forgiveness when the Pack Alpha approached, courageously glowering when they made eye contact as usual, utterly failing to lower his eyes in respect. For the millionth sodding time.

"You defective travesty. How joyful I am to soon be rid of you and your uselessness,” Rixon hissed at him privately, snatching Louis’ right arm and holding it up for the pack to see, raising his voice to be heard by all. “Tonight, I relinquish Louis William Tomlinson from the Eighth Great Pack of Siksika. May he never set foot on our lands, or soil our goods ever more as long as he shall live. Henceforth, I shall sever his mark of acceptance, placed by myself on the day of his birth. May you find your peace far from us, for we shall have ours,” he concluded, ripping his teeth into Louis’ wrist and destroying the pack bond mark he’d given the Omega seventeen years ago.

Louis screamed in agony as he felt the connection to his pack wither and disconnect from his soul. The excruciating pain in his wrist was comparable to branding with fiery metal, however it was nothing compared to the horrific spiritual emptiness he now felt inside.

He was packless. Everyone knows packless Omegas are doomed to be murdered or raped by rogues that lurk in the wilderness. This reality was sinking in, and Louis wasn’t confident the upper-hand he happened to have would be enough.

Rixon released his arm, which turned out to be the only thing holding Louis upright, and he collapsed onto the unforgiving surface of the rock, blood and magic pouring from the wound on his wrist, ebbing away the last of his home. Delicately holding it to his chest, he looked through his tears at his mother one last time and mouthed the words ‘I love you’ while he still could.

She looked inconsolable, clutching at her heart outside her chest with both of her shaking hands, but she gifted him the tiniest hint of a parting smile—an image he would treasure and carry with him for the rest of his pitiful life.

With a last gander at Louis’ pathetic form, his pack slowly turned their backs to him. Crushing silence followed, filling every second with its vast emptiness. This was the most degrading display of ignominy a pack could give to a former member. When his childhood friends and poor mother had finally turned away from him, he experienced a new wave of unimaginable misery, and the ritual was finalized. To add pointless insult to already crushing injury, Rixon then bent down to the vulnerable Omega and whispered words of hate into his ear:

“I hope all the scrolls and ingredients were worth it, Louis. You will never see your loved ones again. Should you ever attempt, if I EVER see you on these lands again, I will murder you, young one. Do not think I will show you any level of mercy. Who knows, your defects may even save your life out there...but if you don’t survive, should it reach my knowledge, know that I’ll rejoice your demise,” Rixon taunted at the Omega’s broken form. “Get out of my sight,” he seethed, thrusting Louis’ bag containing his belongings into the boy’s tender arms and finally turning his sadistic back as well.

'Gods, at least he’s finished,’ Louis thought dejectedly. He threw his measly bag over his shoulder and made his way to the path that would lead him out of his homeland. The circle of his old pack members wordlessly parted for him as he passed, and he heard an almost imperceptible, “Goodbye, Louis” whispered by his longest standing friend, Stanley, from somewhere in the crowd. It brought a fresh batch of tears to his eyes, but Louis knew he couldn’t respond, so he straightened his aching shoulders, held his head as high as he could, and left his life behind.

He made one last stop to his secret tree to stuff all the hidden remedies he'd concocted into his bag, and grabbed his sword. With a last and lengthy pause to observe the home he would never again consider it to be, he turned his back to them for a change, and set off into the unknown.




Remembering Rixon’s words always infuriated him. ‘I hope all the scrolls and ingredients were worth it, Louis.’

The Omega had never even had an inkling the Pack Alpha had known about the scrolls he had stolen from the pack’s Keep. After extracting all the information they had to offer, Louis had stealthily and carefully returned them the same night he’d looted them, but he should have guessed no deed escaped the brutish Rixon’s knowledge.

The old Pack Alpha had also made sure to inform Louis that he was aware of the ingredients the Omega had been collecting, though, and that part was particularly odd—odd that Rixon had let that continue for so long without putting a stop to it, or reporting it to the rest of the council. Louis could have, and maybe should have, been banished for that ages ago, but whatever the reasons for the Alpha’s reticence, Louis had prevailed in successfully brewing Omega hormone suppressants, and that was critically important. He’d created an herbal remedy that completely blocked his heats and slick production, along with greatly dulling his regular everyday scent, and he now felt invincible because of it.

How it works, he really has no clue, but Louis needed to take it once every month at sunset on the last day before his heat would be due, or it proved itself useless. He’d learned this the hard and uncomfortable way, so he has been meticulously planning, preparing, and administering the remedy ever since for the last three years without fail.

This all rooted back to the detestation he harbored for his gender. He has been aggressively implementing this schedule, ensuring his liberation from those five or more vulnerable and pathetic days every month out of self-hatred, but more predominantly, out of fear.

Heats were especially risky for him because his coincided with the full moon. It was a rare and unfortunate synchronization for one to have, for the full moon was the only interval that a soulbond could be formed between two mates. This bond is the unbreakable tie of two souls to create one, in mind and spirit.

Consequently, nature has worked to prevent the ability for soulbonds to occur while a wolf is lost in the uncontrollable haze of their hormonal mating desperation for obvious reasons, but she had apparently skipped Louis, as per usual. Bad luck was so rampant and constant in Louis’ life, it didn’t even mildly surprise him that he’d get stuck with such a dangerous heat cycle.

Getting back to his prideful accomplishments, suppressant remedies were certainly not common, but he’d known they existed by whispers through time. Aware there were ancient scrolls containing every known detail of their species somewhere in the Keep, Louis had broken into the underground passages of his tribe to educate himself on everything he could before he was discovered.

Which he wasn’t, so as a result, he was granted enough time to learn every wolf had the potential capability to use howahkan timbre; that silly little growl Alphas possess in their throats that make every member of Louis’ gender roll over like the passive weaklings they were. But in the case of Omegas, the vocal chords needed for the timbre had simply never developed. But if he were to develop them…

See, only a Pack Alpha could control other Alphas with their howahkan commands; regular Alphas didn’t recognize each other’s timbre as authority. Meaning only Omegas were unavoidably affected, again except for Louis. Meaning, if Louis came across an Alpha rogue and utilized his howahkan, and said Alpha was far enough away from his scent, there was a decent possibility the Alpha wouldn’t register Louis as an Omega, and leave him be.

With that as his motivation, Louis had begun to train his voice to match that deep and thundering sound he’d heard so many times from his Alpha counterparts. After seven years of tweaking and perfecting it, his timbre became so believable that it now has the ability to scare himself.

He’d indeed managed to fend off a vast majority of the rogues he’d encountered by using his howahkan, and it hadn’t surprised him at all, because in Louis’ opinion, rogues are incredibly stupid, instinct-driven animals.

All rogues amount to is a bunch of lone, packless Alpha wolves who had left their own pack intentionally or otherwise, and now consequently roam the wilderness in search of peace to ruin. They are always unmated, unless they force a mating on a defenseless Omega they kidnap, and even then, they’re never satisfied. Rogues are vicious and cold-hearted; a very serious threat to all Omegas, but especially an Omega without the protection of a soulbond that allows their Alpha to track their location.

It maddened Louis to no end that his gender was not trained even the slightest in combat—it made absolutely zero sense. For in the event of an invasion, how are they to defend themselves? Are they really just expected to cower in fear and wait for a good Alpha to come along and rescue them? Bullshit.

In retaliation of this egregious inequality, every time Louis snuck out of pack territory, he had rushed to his special tree hollow to greet the magnificent battle sword he’d additionally stolen from the Keep (which was no easy feat, for your information), and practiced with it for hours.

The Siksika were particularly gifted metalworkers, or beshiltheeni, so their armory was consistently stocked with impressive weapons, and Louis had fallen in love with the sword the moment his eyes had landed on its tempting gleam. He had even named the weapon: ‘Chatan,’ Siksika’s olde word for hawk, for the way its blade cut through the air like the wings of the powerful bird.

There in his secret spot with his trusty Chatan, Louis would hack branches from trees as if they were rogue limbs, building his skills in strength and precision through sweltering sun, or relentless storm. He had snuck into enough Alpha warrior training sessions to study the steps needed to refine his swordplay correctly, and he dare say he was quite handy with the thing by now.

Which was a lucky reality, because amidst his relaxing against the tree trunk, the Omega was jarred out of his reminiscing and forced into sharp vigilance from the blatant scent of an Alpha rogue. A frightfully distinctive scent, and one that was steadily growing closer, so Louis yanked Chatan out of the dirt he’d staked it in, and called upon his inner wolf to heighten his senses and instincts to a near omniscient degree.

He whirled around to face the exact location the foreboding scent was rolling in from, and he didn’t have to wait long before the typical and excessively tall, muscular Alpha came ambling through the break in the trees. The intruder stopped short when he was met with the sight of Louis, and he cocked his shaved head to the side in interest.

“Well aren’t you just delectable, standing there with your little knife,” he purred as he ominously stalked forward, the hairs on the back of Louis’ neck standing up in trepidation.

Not that Louis needs to mention it, but this wasn’t good. The Alpha was far too close for Louis to rely on howahkan, and his Omega scent had undoubtedly reached the Alpha’s nose by now. Dull, sure, but an unmistakable aroma from close distances. Inconveniences such as these would never stop Louis from making a valiant effort, though. He sucked in a breath and gave it all he had: “Get the fuck away from me, you mongrel,” he snarled with substantial timbre in his tone.

The rogue’s mouth dropped open in astonishment, taken quite aback by what he’d just heard, but then the corners of his lips turned up in a decidedly delighted grin. “Gods, that’s impressive for an Omega. You may be the first in history to replicate us that well...but you can’t fool me, pup, I’ve already smelled you. Tell me, just what are you doing out here all alone, lovely?” he asked, resuming his advance toward the lone Omega.

Ah shit, Louis internally cursed. “You asked for it, you soulless scum,” he growled as he launched himself at the intimidating Alpha, sword poised in swinging position over his shoulder.

The rogue had unfortunately managed to jump out of the way before Louis’ blade made contact with his neck where it was aimed, and now Louis was on the defensive side of the fight, scrambling to keep Chatan in his grip as the Alpha sought to take it from him. He’s fast, he thought, backing up far enough to strike again and shooting himself forward without stopping to think about it. The Alpha dodged again, and—as if that wasn’t bad enough—took advantage of Louis’ exposed back, snatching him from behind and encasing his neck with a beefy arm, another hand seizing his wrist to keep Chatan immobile.

Louis had counted on this, though.

Biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, Louis was momentarily distracted (and extremely disturbed) when he felt hot, rancid breath sliding down his neck, and an entirely inappropriate and ill-timed erection pushing against his arse.

“What are you going to do now, pet?” the rogue breathed into Louis’ ear as the vice-grip he had on his wrist grew impossibly tighter, ultimately forcing him to drop Chatan onto the forest floor. The rogue obviously thought he’d won by now, but Louis had other plans.

He always had other plans. “This,” he declared, slamming his skull back into the rogue’s nose as hard as he could without knocking himself out, causing the Alpha’s ensnaring hold to loosen just enough for Louis to make his next move. In his attacker’s momentary lapse of control, Louis got enough space to clasp his palms together, and he drove a harsh elbow into the rib cage behind him. The rouge grunted in more pain, and Louis didn’t wait another second before flying with a spin to the ground and kicking the rogue’s legs out from under him. Success.

Once his enemy crashed onto his back, blood gushing from a likely broken nose, Louis dove to the right to retrieve Chatan, quickly snatching the sword’s cold handle and returning to his groaning opponent. He planted both feet on either side of the rogue’s hips and stood menacingly over him, his ‘little knife’ in both hands hanging right above the rogue’s chest. “And this,” he added, dropping to his knees and brutally driving the blade deep into the heart of the helplessly unguarded, and quite frankly, highly alarmed Alpha rogue.

Struggling against the instant thrashing, coughing, and spluttering his fallen opponent was producing, Louis valiantly held his position straddling the rogue’s hips, even leaning down to hover mere breaths above his hideous face and assert unwavering eye contact. Louis wanted his eyes to be the last thing this piece of shit ever saw, and how satisfying that they were. He drove Chatan further and further down into the Alpha’s chest plate until it practically skewered into the ground underneath him, and the Omega maniacally chuckled as the light of life faded from the rouge’s widened eyes. Another one down.

Only when the bastard had taken his last wet rattle of a breath, and his body had fallen irreversibly slack with death, did Louis finally achieve the strength to calm his rabid wolf and regain control over himself. He sagged with relief and removed his blade from the chest it had penetrated as safely as he could, mindful not to chop his own head off, because he’s almost done that multiple times.

All at once, the horrors of the kill seeped into Louis’ naturally Omega thoughts, and he began to hyperventilate, stumbling backward until his back collided with a tree, heaving every breath as he slid down its length and landed with a thump on the ground. He hated this part.

Dropping his head in his hands and drawing his knees in toward his body, Louis finally let himself feel the aftermath. His anxiety clouted itself into forefront of his mind, encompassing every sensation of guilt it could get to, and he cried into the quiet indifference of the forest. This vehement emotional response happened every time he overpowered a rogue, and it wasn’t generated from the guilt of taking their lives; it was that no matter how hard he may strive to subdue his true calling, Louis was still an Omega.

And it goes against an Omega’s nature to kill anything; that abstinence from violence even included measly insects, so killing wolves was unthinkably worse. Omegas were life givers, not takers, and Louis shamed that trait. Consistently.

Louis was predictably tormented with remorse after every kill—after each time he so viciously acted against his peaceful nature—and it took a while to get himself back in order. He truly hated the act of killing another wolf, but when his own life was in jeopardy, he understood necessary exceptions had to be made. That being said, just because he was efficient at making these exceptions did not mean kills were an enjoyable pastime to indulge in. Quite the opposite. Maybe Louis would be stronger if he had a mate to give him mental and emotional support, but since that won’t ever happen, suffering it is.

After what seemed like hours of emotional turmoil, Louis ultimately won control from his inner Omega and wiped at his puffy eyes when the steady flow of tears ceased for good. He let his head fall back against the tree and turned his attention to the ocean-blue sky. It was actually a beautiful sunny day, which was exceptionally rare for the area he was traveling through, and he was morose that he couldn’t fully enjoy the uncommonly pleasant weather. The rogue had ruined any chance of that.

Just as he was beginning to stand and continue trudging through the never-ending forest to find a safe place in which to punish himself, he nearly suffered a heart attack when the bushes on his left offered a sudden rustling of leaves, and a nerve-racking snapping of twigs. Not another one, he mentally pleaded, grabbing Chatan and steeling himself for secondary harassment.

No amount of bracing in the world, however, could have prepared Louis for the sight he saw—a massive Alpha male black wolf. Massive. The bear-sized wolf casually prowled out from the bushes it had impressively concealed itself in, and padded his ginormous paws into the clearing, and Louis went rigid with terror, whining in disappointment that this was what his life had come to. It’s over. I’m so dead. This wolf was bigger than Rixon by a landslide, and if Louis had any prospect at surviving this, he’d have to...well no, fuck it, there wasn’t anything he could do. This was it.

Dropping his sword and falling to his knees in defeat, Louis hung his head and squeezed his eyes shut, pessimistically awaiting his death and cursing the Gods for letting it happen. However, in lieu of the wolf’s attack he’d expected, the familiar sounds of bones in a skeleton breaking and snapping into place occurred instead as the Alpha evidently shifted into his human form. When the process was completed, Louis cracked an eye open in curiosity, and a pair of slender feet came into his view.

“Are you okay?” came the husky but soft voice of the mystery Alpha, instantly furrowing the Omega’s eyebrows in confusion.

Taken aback at the genuine concern in the words, Louis looked up to meet the face of his superior, and he was admittedly dumbfounded by what he saw. There before him stood the naked form of a monstrously tall, raven-haired, tan-skinned, bright-eyed, absolute vision of an Alpha. Half of his long hair was tied behind his head, the other pieces flowing down his defined chest like a waterfall, and Louis tried hard not to imagine how good it might smell. He tried not to imagine a lot of things about this creature. What have I done to deserve this?

The Alpha smiled and bent over as he held out a delicate but strong hand, offering to help the Omega off the ground, and Louis eyed the hand as if it was a snake. He was understandably hesitant—he sorely lacked examples of happy experiences with random Alphas in the woods—but the Omega decided this one was far too beautiful and well-kempt to be another nefarious rogue Louis was accustomed to. Foolish thinking, perhaps, but the breath-taking grin Louis received from the Alpha when he accepted his outstretched hand eradicated those doubts shamefully quickly.

“Look, I don’t know who you are, but I’m alright. Thanks for your concern, but as you can see, I’ve defeated my enemy, and I really must be going now—” Louis stammered, tripping over his feet as he tried to walk away.

“I’ve never once seen a submissive fight like that. You just took down a fully-grown Alpha rogue, and you can’t be more than twenty years of age, who are you? What pack do you belong to? Please allow me to escort you back to your Pack Alpha, I can’t bear the thought of leaving you here. Though you’ve shown great amounts of valor today, no Omega should be out here on their own,” Raven-Hair said, apparently thinking he was doing some good in the world.

Louis knew the Alpha’s heart was in the right place, but he couldn’t help his offended scoff at his presumptuous worries. “Yeah, I’m sure they’d be overjoyed at my return,” he replied, voice dense with dejected sarcasm. Raven-Hair gave a slow blink and confounded expression, so Louis held up his markless wrist to illustrate his point. “I belong to no one. I was banished from my people. I’ve been fending for myself for three years on my own, don’t tell me I shouldn’t be here. I’ve obviously managed, haven’t I? Just because I’m an Omega does not mean I need an Alpha for protection, for as you so astutely pointed out, I took down a fully-grown Alpha rogue,” he finished in a huff, raising his eyebrows as Raven-Hair dropped to one knee and crossed a fist over his heart.

“I meant no offense, Lone Omega. My remarks were never to discredit your skill. You exude more raw power than a fair share of Alphas I’ve seen, that much is undeniable. However, as the Beta for my Pack Alpha, I simply cannot in good conscience leave an Omega stranded in a forest, no matter how self-sufficient that Omega may be. On behalf of the Second Great Pack of Chehalis, I must formally request you return with me and allow me to present you to my Pack Alpha, so that you may gain acceptance and find a home with us for the remainder of your days in this life,” the Alpha recited, taking in a long breath after he’d finished.

“Formal is right, how long have you waited to spit that speech out?” Louis teased, giggling at Raven-Hair’s slightly disappointed frown. “Raven-Hair, I really do appreciate it, but I’m not a beneficial Omega to adopt. I don’t get heats, I don’t submit, and I’m really not all that enticing. Aren’t you at all curious why I got banished from my home pack in the first place? You really don’t know what you’d be getting yourself into,” he reasoned, squeaking when Raven-Hair jumped up and took Louis’ shoulders in his hands.

“Omega," Raven-Hair huffed in exasperation, "if I leave you in this forest, I will regret it for the rest of my days. I would literally never forget it, so please just accept this offer. For my sake? If our Pack Alpha does not accept you, that’s one thing...but we have to try. Better than being completely alone, isn’t it?”

“Oh, I’m not alone,” Louis argued as he gestured to the corpse of the rogue, quickly getting serious when the Alpha shot him an unimpressed deadpan. “Alright, Raven-Hair. I’ll come see your Alpha...but when he refuses me for being lame and defective, you’re going to give me all the food in your house, no arguments. And I have a name—I’m not called ‘Omega’.”

“Well obviously. What are you called?” Raven-Hair asked with a genuine kindness and curiosity to his tone, adding a short secondary statement before the Omega could answer. “I’m not called Raven-Hair either.”

Louis snorted at that last statement and bit his bottom lip to hide his grin. “I like Raven-Hair, though. It suits you,” he argued, containing another fit of laughter when the Alpha rolled his fond eyes. “Alright, I was named Louis. You?”

“Zayn,” the Alpha announced, his chest puffed out like he was happy the Omega asked.

“Zayn. Alright, Zayn. I accept your rather lengthy offer, but on one more condition,” Louis said sternly with a finger held up in compromise.

Zayn raised another one of those wonderfully shaped eyebrows in response to the Omega’s attempted dominance, but his victorious smile never faltered. “Yes, Louis?”

“I stepped on a thorn or something back in that fight, and the bottom of my foot hurts like a bee sting. Could I ride you back to your pack?” he asked, hopping on one foot to dramatically emphasize his point and returning Chatan to the sheath he'd made for it on his bag.

Zayn spluttered a bit at Louis’ choice of wording around the prospect of riding him, but he quickly recovered and let himself shift back into his wolf, grunting as Louis enthusiastically hopped onto his back.

“Off we go, then, pip pip,” the Omega teased, his spirits admittedly higher than normal at this new prospect. 

With a long and miffed sigh from the wolf, the unlikely pair set off toward the Alpha’s foreign territory, and Louis was already cripplingly nervous. Zayn was one thing—decently easy to handle—but the Omega hasn’t been around a large number of ordinary wolves in roughly three years. His socializing skills, if he ever actually had any, were embarrassingly rusty, and he was bound to get into a bit of trouble with the pack members.

Paired with his devastatingly inevitable rebellions against any and all authority, it’s no irrational fear that he’d get turned away before he could manage to take two steps in.

Well, I’ll have to tell Zayn ‘I told you so’ then. At least I’ll get a house’s worth of food from it.

Pushing his thoughts and doubts from his mind, or at least pretending to, Louis settled down on the Alpha’s back and nuzzled into his dark and fluffy fur, closing his eyes for a much-needed nap as Zayn continued to carry an oblivious Louis toward his future home.