Scenario: Being a power ranger is nothing compared to fighting against the government in a dystopian society.

More mature themes. Not explicit, just suggestive. The story trails off from generic descriptions to one scene somewhere in the middle, so don't worry if you can tell some questions are unanswered.


Fighting is all Troy Burrows knows, and he knows it well.

From the young age of seven, he's been exposed to the training secrets that bring glory to the underground gang's name. This gang calls itself "the Wolves". But that very name is rarely uttered unless necessary because the more people know about it, the more danger it is in. Danger, a mysterious concept in the war against a government that imposes it on its people.

Troy's read his fair share of dystopian novels. Divergent and the Hunger Games just weren't cutting it, so he moves onto more realistic novels.

One would say they are less dystopian and more gang-related, but that's what he's a part of in some sorts. He enjoy being in the gang. He enjoys being the Gamma, working his way up to becoming the Alpha. The gang ranks each member like wolves do in a pack, where Troy's father, Jason, is the Alpha, and Noah Carver is the Beta.

If he's being honest, Troy hates the standing Beta.

He has his reasons, like the numerous pranks he faces from Noah yet endures silently because of their respective title differences. But Troy hates the thought of a day where he will watch his own father rank Noah as the new Alpha. Nepotism isn't such a hot concept in the gang world, even if the classic trilogy gang movies beg to differ.

Troy likes to run numbers and figures through his head, and one thing he always runs back to is the gender composition difference. There actually isn't much of one, but women and men tend to stay apart. The only exception being the Alpha female. His mother.

He loves his mother, he can't lie. But she's never around to watch him grow up, and he envies the little boys and girls with their own mothers. It's a cliche scenario for a bad boy to be in, but he can't complain when his and his father's title bring him luxury.


There's a standing Beta female.

Emma Goodall.

Theoretically, she's a higher ranking than Troy, but she doesn't rub her title in others' faces. They rarely train together, and it baffles him how she can be younger than him and still have a higher ranking. Their age difference is only a year, but the gap between their statuses is far from discreet.

There's a training room that takes up a whole side of a large auditorium, where two spotters will sit behind a glass wall and watch for any injuries throughout training. The other side matches a dance studio, with mirrors lining up the side. But the rest of the room is empty, and only a few training instruments lay scattered on the floor.

Troy watches the way she fights against Noah when he spots for them. He'll watch the way her mind runs wild in all directions as she turns to guard all sides, and he'll notice the fumbling of her fingers on weapons if the opponent gets too close.

She's really not that interesting of a character to him, but he spots more for her than for Noah. Maybe it's the tied-in hatred that partially accounts for this, but he can't blame himself for feeling such a way.


Troy's nights are long and lonely. He has a room that looks like a hotel room, with a balcony that leads to a view of the ocean. It's serene but alarming, as thought the crashing waves at high tide are ready to swallow him whole without a second thought. He feels attracted to this feeling of being held, of being enveloped everywhere.

He goes back to the fumbling hands.

Stop it, Troy. She's not that interesting of a character. Intrusive thoughts.

He goes back inside to sleep.


Emma is in the room right next to his, and it's funny how this one was open when she first looked for a place to stay. Noah is down the hall on the other side, so once in a while, she'll knock on Troy's door when she needs help opening something tightly-closed or needs some company. Usually the latter.

She may be a bit boring, but that's only because they don't talk much. His fear of the tides extends to her, for high tide on some days is enough to leave a loud blaring in her ears. She needs company to soothe it. Not that Noah isn't adequate. Troy is more... of her style.

She'll draw herself to his bookshelf, sifting through each cover. He reads dystopian novels, she notes. Scratch that. Gang novels. Sometimes, the shelves are too high up for her to reach. She'll ask for his help, and though he sighs from his side of the bed, he'll get up and extend his arm easily, bringing down the book to her level.

"Thank you," she'll smile, the fumbling fingers reaching for the hard material of the cover.

He grunts, noting the fingers again. Stop, Troy. She just has five fumbling fingers. That's all.

He suddenly imagines images of those fingers on his skin, pressing down with their warmth. He wants them all over his body like the tides he fears. He wants himself to just take her from her sitting position on the other side of the bed and turn her so she's underneath him, and he'll touch every bit of her skin with his. He feels lust grow for some reason, yet he wants the best intentions for her in every aspect of his imagination. He wants her to feel the best she's ever felt in her life. He wants to do that to her-

Enough! he thinks. He turns to see her gentle fingers turning a page and sighing.

Beta female, he thinks. He wants to show her what a Gamma really can do.


She glances over to see him turned to look at her for a quick second. She smiles and puts the book down, laying down and facing him.

"You have a good book collection," she muses, watching him as he slowly turns all the way around to face her.

"Thanks," he lets out, a bit annoyed that his intrusive thoughts of pent up sexual frustration have to suddenly be shoved away.

"Troy," she whispers, a little closer to him now at the sound of a crashing tide. The futuristic bedside lamp behind her goes out after sensing quiet.

Her fingers reach for the covers, pulling them over her tinier frame.

"There's nothing wrong with what you're thinking," she suddenly says, and his eyes burst open in fear.

"What are you talking about?" he shakily says, trying to conceal his desire. She looks so tiny and easy to cuddle. He wants her in his arms. He wants to be in her arms.

"All of that," she sighed. "I can read your thoughts."

Troy sits up, his bedside lamp snapping on.

"Emma," he breathes, watching her slowly sit up.

"Don't worry," she says. "I'm not going to ridicule or scold you for any of it. It's a new development, though. Different from your usual thoughts about wanting to beat Noah."

He feels angry.

"I don't blame you," she says with a dry chuckle. "He's a pain in the ass to be around, and if it were up to me, you would be my Beta Male any day."

Anger takes over, and he turns over so that she's underneath him. He lightly holds her wrists, still making sure she's not in pain in any way.

"You can read my thoughts," he grunts, though his awkward position with their arms above their heads causes him to say this in her ear. She feels something.

She turns her head's angle a bit just so she can nuzzle his neck with her nose, noticing how he quietly starts to pant.

Emma closes her eyes, feeling his hands drag their way down her arms and to her torso. He doesn't lift them up from her frame, and her hands move to behind her pillow. He looks directly into her eyes to make sure she's paying attention.

"I need you," he says. "Please."

"Troy, it's too soon. You know we can't do this," she sighs.

But she pulls him down for a long kiss, and he drags his hands back up her arms. Her hands reach up to his hair, entangling themselves in it and massaging his tense scalp. He likes it and has to take a break from the kiss just to focus on the way her fingers move.

The fingers.

They don't fumble at all.

They trace deep circles in his hair and undo the pain he constantly feels from training.

He holds her, making sure she's invisible to anyone standing away from the bed, and he suffocates her neck with long kisses and panting.

He's showing her what a Gamma can do. And though he enjoys dystopian novels, they never prepared him to feel like this.