The Court of the Alpha King

TVD; Klaroline; AU; werewolves

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise belongs to L. , Julie Plec et al.

Chapter one

In my nineteen short years, I'd been through a lot with my pack. We'd been through rebellion, slaughter and defeat. Weathered infamy and shame. Grown stronger together again through the quiet, hard years. That's what pack life is: belonging to your packmates. Living for each other as much as for yourself. Obedience to your Alpha. Loyalty to your brothers and sisters; fighting and laughing and hurting and learning together.

Like I say, I'd been through a lot with my pack.

Today was the first time I'd ever felt betrayed by them.

'Caroline,' someone was saying.

Blinking, I looked up and realised I had zoned out mid-conversation. Got lost in my own inner monologue of bitterness for a moment. I was in one of the smaller parlours in the Lockwood mansion—the spiritual and physical heart of the Mystic Falls werewolf pack. My pack. My home.

I was seated on a large armchair that threatened to swallow my diminutive teenage frame right up. To my left, by the fireplace, stood Tyler Lockwood—my pack Alpha and cousin. At twenty-three years of age, the burden of leadership fell heavy on my cousin's shoulders and these past months had cast shadows over his handsome face. To my right, suited, booted and impressively imposing, sat the Beta of the New Orleans clan.

Elijah Mikaelson was the second most powerful werewolf in the Americas, if not—arguably—the world. The elder brother of the Alpha King of the Twelve Packs had a reputation for honour and brutality, in equal measures. A lapse of concentration in front of him was nearly as unforgivable as it was stupid.

I tried to hide my shudder as I turned my attention to Tyler. I was awkwardly aware that it was not the first time he had called my name. My cousin's face was concerned, behind the impenetrable façade of the Alpha in command.

'Well,' Elijah spoke, interrupting the tense pause. His warm brown eyes seemed almost amused as he glanced between the two of us. 'I'll let you discuss my proposal between yourselves.' He gave Tyler a long, considering look. 'My brother's offer expires when I leave in the morning.'

'You'll have your answer by then,' Tyler answered, with his eyes narrowed.

We waited as Vicki Donovan, Tyler's pack Beta, appeared in the doorway and led Elijah away from the parlour. Vicki was as feisty as she was sharp, and I knew she would keep Elijah under a watchful eye for the duration of his visit. I'd watched Vicki prove herself time and time again these past years and, if my senses didn't deceive, she and Tyler were developing more than just a working relationship as Alpha and Beta of the pack.

Truthfully, it seemed likely that Vicki might soon vacate the position of Beta wolf to become my cousin's Alpha mate. I was happy enough with that scenario, since I certainly thought Tyler deserved the happiness of a true mate at his side and Vicki was both skilled and loyal, if a little brash at times. I wondered who would be made up to Tyler's new Beta if that happened though. Maybe Matt, Vicki's younger brother and, for what it was worth, my teenage sweetheart of days gone by. Perhaps Jeremy Gilbert: the Gilbert's had strong genes that had produced more than one Beta in the pack's history. There were so few of us left, after the rebellion. Mystic Falls was a decimated pack, made of orphans and battle survivors. Of the reigning bloodline, only Tyler and I remained. Our Alpha was the youngest in the twelve packs and we had no heirs; our future was uncertain.

This, of course, was the reason Elijah Mikaelson was in our home throwing propositions around like confetti.

My packmates and I were traitors.

Eight years ago, when Tyler and I were children, our pack conspired against the Alpha King—the leader to which all twelve clans in the Americas had pledged allegiance as part of one indomitable super-pack. Tyler's mother, my aunt, Carol Lockwood was our Alpha back then and her eldest son Mason was the idiot who forced his mother's hand and picked a fight with the Mikaelson family. Mason's arrogance was unrivalled and the fool believed that he could usurp the New Orleans Alpha—he was too powerful, said Mason; it wasn't right for an established pack with old and noble wolf bloodlines to bend at the knee to an Alpha outside of their own pack. Mystic Falls didn't need the super pack.

So, we rebelled. Well, not me, exactly. I was only eleven years old and kept back with the other children, kept away as much as possible from the bloody fighting that ensued. The final battle that destroyed my pack—when the Alpha King reigned down misery on the traitors who had turned on him—happened so quickly it was difficult to know how it started. I will never forget how it ended though. It ended with death, and blood, and fear. A generation wiped out. I was glad my grandfather, who's Fell blood ran in my veins, who's daughters lay slaughtered on their front lawn, was not alive to see his beloved pack brought so low.

Carol Lockwood, our Alpha, was dead. Her blood was warm on the Alpha King's face. Her sister—my beautiful, strong, loving mother—was haemorrhaging blood from a vicious wound in her abdomen. Mason's foolish heart lay next to him in the Southern dirt; his mate Jules's death was longer and messier. My mother's cousins, Logan and Meredith Fell, had survived the fight only to be executed over the bodies of their dead family. All my friend's parents, aunts, uncles, brothers and sisters met their ends—no family of our pack escaped the wrath of the Alpha King. When it was over, our pack of twenty-eight was reduced to seven.

We were allowed to live, but we were disgraced. Outcasts; traitors; disinherited.

A child Alpha, under the guardianship of Jeremy Gilbert's college-aged Aunt Jenna and her boyfriend Alaric. Jeremy survived, as well as the two Donovan kids.

And me: Caroline Forbes. Daughter of Elizabeth Forbes. Granddaughter of Edmund Fell, of the long line of Mystic Falls alphas. Niece of the traitor, Carol-Anne Lockwood.

Me.

'You really want me to do this?' I asked Tyler.

He reached for my hand and pulled me from the armchair to stand in front of him. His eyes were troubled, even as his thumb smoothed over my hand that he kept clasped in his own.

'Care, please understand that I don't want you to be apart from our family. I love you. I will always love you. But you know that our duty is to our pack, to protect what is left of us. We cannot rebuild unless we are welcomed back into the werewolf community. As outsiders, as traitors, we are vulnerable. How many close calls have we had in the past years? We cannot risk fending off any more attacks from would-be heroes who think they can finish what the Mikaelson's started.'

I knew he was right. For all his youth, Tyler was a sensible, vigilant Alpha. In another time, another situation, he might have led our pack to greatness. Now, we were just trying to survive.

'We need to make peace with New Orleans.'

'Yes,' Tyler said, steadily. 'Though, I wish with all my heart there was another way to do it.'

There wasn't though. We needed the healing balm of the Alpha King's friendship, extended once again to the cleansed remains of a pack he had once held close as his own. We needed re-entry to the allied Packs; a seat at the political table, the security of running with the super-pack. We needed to atone for the sins of our fathers and pledge our renewed allegiance to the Alpha King.

We were lucky, I supposed, that New Orleans had been willing to welcome us back.

It left a bitter taste in my mouth.

'I don't believe you'll be unhappy there, Caroline,' Tyler said, earnestly. 'You'll be living at the Alpha's court, surrounded by more wolves that you've ever known. You'll be right in the heart of our world, experiencing and learning so much more than Mystic Falls could ever offer you.'

'I'll be their prisoner,' I said.

Tyler frowned.

'You'll be this Pack's ambassador. You're a princess of the Fell bloodline, cousin.' My Alpha squeezed my hand comfortingly. 'Don't let them forget it.'

He was right. Not that anyone in our small pack, in our small Southern town, referred to me by such a grand title. Still, I was my mother's daughter, of my grandfather's blood, descended from one of the oldest traceable werewolf bloodlines. The Fell's were werewolf royalty, and that blood was in my veins. No trampled rebellion nor the shame of a generation could take that from me.

I took a deep breath and tried to let go of my childish, sullen feelings of betrayal. My Alpha asked this of me. Yes, I would be a glorified hostage to ensure Mystic Fall's continued loyalty, but I could be of real use to my pack in New Orleans. If I could establish a place for myself there, our place in the super-pack could be properly cemented. My family could be safe and could finally start to rebuild, growing strong again.

The fire in my eyes must have shown, because Tyler smiled proudly at me.

'We'll travel together,' he said, giving me a quick kiss on the forehead. 'I'll pledge our Pack's allegiance to Mikaelson and make sure you're properly settled. Care, thank you. I'm proud of you and… I know Liz would be proud too.'

I blinked back the tears as Tyler strode out of the parlour, no doubt to hunt down Elijah and play happy host for one more night. Shortly, we would follow Elijah to New Orleans and a new chapter of our lives would begin. A new world for Caroline Forbes. I wondered what the future had in store for me at the Court of the Alpha King.

So...I'm loving the idea of this story. How about you? Werewolves. Love 'em. xx