From Ashes to Alpha

I stepped into the damp, shadowy depths of "Fang Alley", the neon lights flickering through the steam, casting eerie glows on the cobblestones.

Amelia's hand rested on my shoulder, a reassuring yet commanding presence. Her boots splashed through the puddles, the sound echoing in the narrow, winding passage.

I glanced around, memories of this place flooding back. The countless hours I spent here, laboring for scraps, the insults and the empty stomachs.

Now, walking beside me was Amelia, a vision of beauty and nobility, the envy of every eye that met us.

"James, keep your head up," Amelia whispered, her voice a soft command. "You're with me now. They can't touch you."

I nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "I know. It's just... I never thought I'd be back here, not as someone they'd respect."

Amelia's eyes scanned the crowd, sharp and piercing. "Respect is earned, but fear is given. They'll remember this."

As we passed a stall, I overheard two wolf men muttering to each other, their voices low but not low enough. "This little nobody, how did he get tied to the Jones family? What did he do behind closed doors?"

Amelia's pace quickened, and before I could react, she had already moved to stand in front of the two wolf men, her eyes flashing with a fierce, almost predatory light. They froze, then fell to the ground, trembling.

"Do you think anyone can gossip?" Amelia's voice was a dangerous purr.

The two wolf men stammered, their eyes wide with terror. "No, Lady Amelia, we didn't mean—"

"Didn't mean what?" she cut them off, her gaze unwavering. "To spread rumors? To undermine my decisions? Speak clearly, or I might have to help you clarify."

The older of the two, a scarred wolf with a patchy beard, managed to croak out, "We deserve to die!"

The other wolf, younger and thinner, tried to crawl away. "Please, Lady, we're sorry. We'll never—"

"Stay where you are," Amelia snapped, her voice slicing through the air. "Apologies are for the living. Mistakes are for those who dare to challenge me."

I stepped forward, placing a hand on Amelia's arm. "Amelia, let it go. They're not worth it."

Reluctantly, Amelia nodded,towards the two werewolves: "Remember, it is he who saved you today."

Continue walking down this street and suddenly hear a sound.

"Hey, James, last time you came here looking for a job. How's everything been?" The voice was rough, metallic, and unmistakably that of Ironscar, the shop's owner.

His lone eye, a mechanical lens, whirred as it focused on me, and he extended a metal hand, the gears in his palm clicking together.

I nodded, returning the handshake. "Not bad, Ironscar. Still on the hunt, but I've been keeping busy. How about you?"

Ironscar's metal eye scanned the shop, which was cluttered with various magical artifacts and trinkets. "Business is steady. Can't complain.

Oh, and look who's here," he said, his voice shifting to a more formal tone as he turned to Amelia. He gave her a deep bow, the metal joints in his back creaking. "Miss Jones, it's an honor to meet you in such humble surroundings."

This is the only person who greeted us when we walked on this street today. Amelia took a few more glances at this shop. It is a humble shop, probably about ten square meters.

The table is piled with all kinds of magical trinkets. The wall is decorated with photos of wolf totems. Behind the photos, there always seems to be some secret hidden.

Amelia and I walked in the alley like this for about an hour. There was nothing else interesting.

Suddenly, Amelia said to me, "Come on, let's find a place to sit and discuss something with you."

"It can't be another competition, can you spare me?" I showed a look of difficulty.

"Stop talking nonsense. Let's go!" Amelia walked straight ahead, and I could only follow.