Lycanthropy

A deal to kick his ass.

I stared at the vampyre in disbelief. He wanted me to join their side, and go against the werewolf council. If I was ever found out my life would be on the chopping block. I may be an outcast but I could never betray my kind. I growled at the vampyre and at the wolves imposing on our conversation. My eyes darted everywhere, looking for a chance to escape both troublesome creatures. The vampyre sensed my train of thought.

“If you don’t come with me, then I will be forced to take you.” The vampyres voice was threatening and dark.

’Over my dead body.’ I voiced aloud.

“I can arrange that.” The vampyre said with an evil smirk and a wink.

A large grey wolf growled to the side of me. I soon as I noticed its presence, I winced. It was the alpha male. A powerful radiated off of him like a sun. This male was more dominate than I was and my wolf was not happy about it. I became antsier as the vampyre and wolf got in battling positions. Suddenly the vampyre backed off and shot me a look. “I’ll be back for you princess.” He bowed before speeding off into the deep forest.

The alpha male phased right in front of me, his naked body blocking my view of anything else. If I were a human right now, I would be blushing. I averted my eyes to the left, staring at the wolves that had come to attack me. My eyes narrowed at them and my wolf was immediately on the defense.

“Calm yourself.” The alpha ordered. I unwillingly became relaxed. I bared my teeth at the alpha, showing my dislike to him ordering me around like I was his bitch. “You better get use to it.” The alpha chuckled. “We will be escorting you to the meeting.”

#

My mood got worse and worse as I was escorted to lodging of this pack. I felt their thoughts pushing on my mental barrier. I was too exhausted to deal with their petty questions. I didn’t want to be here and I most definitely didn’t need their protection. As we arrived to the lodging, the wolves spilt up to go to their respective houses, probably to change into decent clothes. I mental whined as I realized that I didn’t have any clothes.

I wolf strolled up beside me, signaling for me to follow him. I sensed that this wolf was the omega of the pack. His wolf form was small and his aura basically screamed for help. He was adorable. He phased right in front of me, just like his alpha. Did these men have no decency? He put some clothes on and led me inside the house.

“I’m Jason.” He spoke, everything about this kid is so damn adorable. “I’m supposed to show you to your room and give you a change of clothes; I don’t know why Alpha didn’t have a female show you to your room.” I chuckled at how innocent this omega was. I female could have easily scared me or tempted to hurt her. Female wolves are very protective and territorial.

We finally arrived at my ‘room’. Upon the bed sat a change of clothes and some toiletries. Jason awkwardly rubbed his neck and blushed as a phased before him, my goodies in full show. I laughed and pushed him out of the room. I could see him and I having a beautiful friendship.

As I was changing clothes, I thought of my past life, as a human.

I wasn’t always a blood thirsty, lone werewolf. I was a normal teenager, with semi-normal friends, and great foster family. I think I’ll start with my foster family. Diana, my foster mother, is one of a kind. She’s always running around in overalls and a tank top, and the overalls are always splattered with some kind of substance. It’s usually paint or baking products. Occasionally you find her with dirt and grass stains from the spur of the moment gardening thing she goes through. Diana is probably one of the kindest, but at the same time fiercest, women I know. I could have never asked for a better foster mother. Both Diana and I look quite a like. We are both on the tall side for a woman and we have long blonde hair. Due to this similarity, I have never been asked if I was adopted or in foster care.

John, my foster father is a different story. John is a quiet, cold man. I always wonder what goes on in that clever head of his. I’m surprised that he’s not a werewolf himself, he sure acts like one. He’s like a typical old fashioned father. I can always find him sitting at the table reading the paper in the mornings. Sometimes he makes me nervous, watching my every move with those grey eyes of his. Despite his cold behavior, I know he cares. When my foster brother, Damien, died in a car wreck John cried. I have never seen a man cry like that before.

John is a very tall man. Six foot, four inches I believe. His platinum blonde hair makes him stand out from a crowd, if his height already doesn’t. He also has grey eyes that can look through your soul or your pathetic excuses/lies. When I lived there I could never get away with sneaking out or lying about where I went.

I bit my lip, bloody gushing into my mouth. My eyes welled up a bit, but I shoved the memories and my emotions down into a deep pit.
Dear lord I miss them.