GRIFFIN'S POV.
I am the alpha of the Demilune Pack, the largest in this region. I wasn't in line with this title but I took it from the previous alpha anyway. And why wouldn't I? He was too full of himself to go against his advisors to challenge me, the best warrior, to a duel. He wasn't suitable for that title, nor was he liked by his pack, as he often forcefully took women into his bed, either mated or not. He was a total disgrace of an alpha, and it was high time he was dethroned, especially since he wanted my only sister, Gloria, to serve him in bed, as if I would allow it.
Being an alpha, I have to be up before dawn to go for my morning run while checking the borders alone. Today everything seems all right, except for the lack of patrol warriors along the rogue strip. It is the third time my warriors have gone missing within one month. And when they do the disappearing thing, they are usually found dead a few days later, brutally murdered with only one alive making the weirdest requests to carry out in front of me.
Last week, the last standing warrior had been asked to treat me to a strip dance... I, the supreme alpha of the pack, and the guy looked like a zombie doing all those crazy movements while staring directly at me. It made me uncomfortable watching him move his behind just for my pleasure, and everyone could feel the out-of-nature feeling the stripping warrior emitted. We were in the middle of my break from training when the zombie-like man made his entrance, aggressively straddling me. We were chatting in a circle, and he started his sensual dance on my lap.
There were giggles all over the place.
This was utterly disrespectful. A man stripped to his briefs, shoving his naked body in my face.
"Alpha," he had started. He stripped his shirt to reveal his toned upper body. "I need to dance for you," he added in a slow suggestive tone.
The man starts singing the famous song, mostly played in brothels. His voice is hoarse, and an old croaking frog would do a better job. I try to move my legs with the intention of walking away from the madman, but I am startled since I couldn't feel a muscle as only my eyes can do so. Nevertheless, I am surprised my mind seems allured by the man's suggestive dance, not that I swing to the other side of the spectrum, but that man knew how to tick my imagination. It must be witches' doing, I think, taking in a deep breath.
Everything looks funny as he opens his fly and slowly pulls his dirty trousers down. He slightly pushes his knees open and circularly spins his waist, never breaking eye contact with me. It seems bewitched like something is looming at the back of his eyes. I could see something dark lingering deep inside his eyes, and his usual spirited soul had turned to something being controlled like a puppet. He is no longer the warrior I know. How else would someone explain his stupid actions of the seductive dance on my lap? I sigh in realization. I have lost another warrior into the darkness. I glare frighteningly at my beta, and he instantly reads my intentions.
He swiftly moves forward to take him off me. I realized I was the only one in the room in a trance.
"Witches," I mutter. "They must be up to something." I conclude.
Getting back to my right mind, I kicked him in his groin, and when my foot met him down there real good, it must have hurt like hell because instead of wincing in pain, he passed out.
Now to the matters at hand.