Chapter 1

         What do you say when you hear a loud man cursing the planet and loud crashes coming from inside your home? “Not again” was the response I chose. Of course, I was used to this sort of behavior. I was used to my brother's temper getting the best of him even on the good days. But when I heard another crash, I could only assume it was one of my lamps, I rolled my eyes and dropped the bags of groceries on my porch. One of these days, he was going to owe me a new home.

            I opened the door cautiously, just in case he decided to hurl something else. My carpeted floor was littered with broken glass from lamps, glasses and my used to be television screen. I would mourn not being able to watch my CSI reruns later. I saw Greg standing over the remnants of my sofa. I sighed and began to clean up the mess. No use yelling at him right now. It would only serve to anger him further.

            “I'll do it,” he growled.

            I looked at him, careful not to meet his eye. You never look an angry werewolf in the eye, especially not the Alpha and right now, my brother's wolf was too near the surface for me not to be cautious. “Then come help me,” I said, keeping my tone even.

            He walked to me, slowly and stiffly. With a huff, he bent down next to me and began to sift through the glass to pick out the larger pieces. I could see his eyes had turned yellow, a sure sign that he was angry. Something had seriously upset him and he took out his anger on my furniture. I was certain that the only reason he didn't take it out on his own was that Chrysty, his mate and my sister-in-law, would beat him black and blue and take strips out of his hide.

            I stood and walked into my kitchen to grab the broom. I found everything in there in order, just as I had left it two hours ago before I went to the market. With any luck, it was only my living room, as small as it was, that he had trashed. It didn't really matter. I found most of the furniture at yard sales because of these sorts of happenings. After the third time I had to replace my household decorum, I was tired of spending good money on things I knew would only get destroyed.

            Oh well I thought to myself, better my things than some poor bystander I suppose. It gave little comfort but I took what I could get.

            When I walked back into the living room, Greg was straightening out my sofa and putting pieces back together. I swept up the glass as best I could before grabbing the vacuum to get the small, finer bits.

            “Harper I...I'm sorry. I just...” The attempted apology was good enough for me. He couldn't say something like, “it won't happen again” because, of course, it will. And Greg didn't like to lie to me.

            I walked over to his side. “Don't worry about it. I'm not all that upset but you will have to go shopping with me next weekend so I can find new furnishings,” I said, poking him in the ribs.

            He wrinkled his nose. “I'll send Chrysty.”

            “No, it'll be you Gregory Munroe. Punishment for ruining my home...again,” I laughed.

            He smiled. “Did I hear plastic bags earlier?” I noticed his eyes returned to their normal hazel color.

            “You did. I returned from the market. I hadn't been in over a month. Got tired of ramen cups.” I winked.

            “I'll help you carry them in.” 

 

 

            Chrysty had invited me to help her cook supper since her husband destroyed my house. Cooking was something I enjoyed doing and I actually had to teach her how when she first joined the family. I nearly cringed when I had learned that Greg’s mate considered “cooking” to be warming up Mac & Cheese cups in the microwave. Her first attempt at actually cooking very nearly burnt the house down.

             “I'm so sorry about everything Harper. You must get so tired of it.” she sighed.

            I waved a hand at her. “It's no problem,” I said, putting my attention back on the carrot I was cutting. “I'm use to Greg's temper.”

            “Thank goodness for that. Don't hate me for saying this but I'm glad it's your home he destroys and not our own,” she said shyly, with a smile.

            I laughed. “Greg’s always had a temper. Even before he Changed. Granted, he wasn't prone to destroying my things, but, as every teenage boy, he did manage to put a few holes in the walls. I can remember putting posters up in his room to hide them from Eric and Cheryl.”

            Eric and Cheryl Munroe were Greg's mother and father and my adoptive parents. I started living with the Munroes when I was eight, shortly after my own mother died in a gas station robbery. I didn't have that resentment that kids had toward their new parents, not even as a teenager. They never tried to pretend that I wasn't anything other than what I was; a child who had it rough and one they decided to care for. I never even called them “mom” or “dad”. They were always fine with me calling them by their first names. Greg had been protective of me from day one. He was five years older than me and immediately filled the role of the older brother. Always looking after me. Reminding me to grab my lunch for school. Taking me to my track practices. I may have been the “cut and paste” member of the family but I never felt as if I didn't belong.

            Chrysty laughed. “Surely you aren't telling me they never noticed.”

            I put the chopped carrot in the pot and started working on another one. She and I were making beef stew for supper. “They did...after he and I had graduated. Cheryl called me and asked if I knew how those holes had gotten there. Of course, I didn't say anything but...well, the topic didn't go much further than that. They found them after Greg had been Changed. They never actually said they were afraid of him, mind you, but I'm quite certain they felt the need to be cautious.”

            Chrysty dumped her celery in. “It's a shame,” she said as she grabbed another stalk, “they aren't around anymore. I know Greg misses them. I'm just glad that you didn't abandon him as well.” She couldn’t keep a bitter note from her voice.

            I smiled at her. “It's not like they didn't try Chrysty. That night, when Greg was taken to the hospital after the attack, Cheryl wouldn't leave his side. Eric tried to persuade her to go home but all she said was, “how can I leave my baby?'. When he began to heal, they were certain it was a miracle. But that Moon, when he Changed, it was just too much. Especially for Cheryl.”

            “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said such a thing.”

            I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. Chrysty was Greg's mate. Women in werewolf packs took their ranks among their peers from their mates and acted accordingly. It was unusual that she would apologize to anyone as the Alpha’s mate, even me. I may have been Greg's sister but I was not pack. I was just a human and as such did not warrant an apology or even her notice. I guessed she did so merely because we were family.

            I frowned as she put her hands on her lower back and stretched. Chrysty was 7 months pregnant and Greg didn’t like her standing so much. Of course, she always ignored his worried protests but even now, she looked a little pale.

            “What were your parents like after you were Changed?” I asked, trying to keep the worry from my own voice.

            “My Change was different Harper. I only had my father. He was Changed shortly after my sixth birthday. My mother, she was scared of him at first, but she was so brave. She chose to stay with him even after he accidentally hurt her. He hadn’t learned how to control his wolf yet when he attacked her. Luckily, his Alpha realized there were problems and got there just in time. My mother had scars on her back from his claw marks but he hadn’t gotten to taste her blood.  After that incident, I was sent to live with the Alpha’s family for about eight months while my parents worked out living together. I was also taught how to live with wolves, but they weren’t nearly as volatile as my father. When I turned 10, my mother thought me old enough to understand and she chose to Change herself so that she could live forever with her husband-my father. She didn't want to die without him and neither did he want to live without her. My parents had that romance that people long for. The kind that makes years seem like mere minutes. My mother, however, didn’t survive.” She threw her chopped up celery into the pot and stirred it, one hand across her swollen belly.

            My heart ached for her. In mythology, there were many ways to become a werewolf. Some were as simple as merely sleeping outside at night under a full moon. However, the only true way of becoming a werewolf was to be attacked and be near death. Their saliva caused the Change but it was brutal. Most did not survive. For most werewolves, it's a miracle they even exist.

            “My father, he lived on for me only. He didn't want to leave me without a family but I could see his pain every day. When he thought I wasn't looking, that's when I saw the true him. Then, one night, I heard the door close quietly. I was supposed to be asleep but I was thirsty and got up for a glass of water. My father had slipped out and tried to drown himself. I found him before he could actually do it. I was only 20 then but already an adult. He was certain I could take care of myself and he no longer wanted to be without my mother.” Her voice cracked with emotion.

            “So you decided to Change?” I asked, grabbing an onion.

            She nodded her head. “I didn't want my father to be alone.”

            I didn't ask where he was now. I knew the answer. The answer hung in the air. He had killed himself anyway. I wondered how she didn't hold any resentment to him. She nearly died for him but in the end, he threw away her gift. But then again, I never loved the way a mated pair is supposed to love. Greg has often told me that, even when they're apart, he can always feel Chrysty with him, in his mind. There had only been one time when he hadn't and he had nearly panicked. It had been very early in their relationship, before the bond had actually settled and it had only happened the once. I'd hate to think how he'd react now, after three years, if that bond should just disappear. Especially now that she was very near to her time. I suppose, for her father, after having been with her mother for so long, the thought of eternity without her was just too much. I opened my mouth to ask another question but Greg walked in just then.

“I smell something delicious,” he said, sniffing the air.

            Chrysty laughed. “You'll have to wait Mr. Munroe. The vegetables still have to cook.”

            He walked behind her and wrapped his arms around her stomach, nuzzling her ear. “What a splendid cook my wife is,” he whispered to her. I saw her cheeks flush dark and she smiled. “But she should not be standing. Come and sit at the table.” I watched him lead her to a chair. They were cute together, but opposite in looks.

            Greg was tall, nearly six feet, and very well built, as most werewolves were. He had been Changed when he was 27 and so had that “30's look” most women go for. Where he didn't look like a child but wasn't old enough to be mistaken for someone's father. His skin was a darker white. Not tanned, but not pale as a ghost. He had mouse brown hair that he kept short and hazel eyes with flecks of gold.

            Chrysty was shorter, maybe five-four, with darker skin. A very pretty cream color. Her mother had been an Australian Aborigine and her father was some white guy in the states who went to Australia for the summer and returned two years later after having fallen in love with her mother. He brought her back with him when they found out she was pregnant. Chrysty had beautiful light brown eyes and dark curly hair that fell to her shoulders in tight spirals. Her body was all soft and curves, the kind every woman desired. She was gorgeous. Even pregnant.

            “Flattery will not get you a taste before its ready,” I told him as he tried to butter up his wife. “Don't fall for his actions Chrysty. He's only interested in the food,” I teased.

            He looked at me and winked. “Oh Harper. Ruining all the fun. I'm as hungry as a wolf.” His stomach growled on cue, causing all of us to laugh.

            “It's almost ready love,” Chrysty said, as she sat down. “Your sister has made some of the best homemade rolls I've ever smelled. Give it about another ten minutes or so. “

            He leaned down and kissed her briefly but intimately enough that I felt the need to turn my attention back to the onion. “I'll see to it that the others are at the table,” he said against her mouth and then turned to leave.

            Chrysty watched him walk out of the kitchen with a smile. In some ways, I envied what they had but I also knew that a woman was second to her werewolf mate. Werewolves were stuck in the 16^th Century where women didn't count for much. They took care of their women well enough, females were few and far between simply because they couldn't survive the Change, but she was expected to behave as a woman should. She had no say in the way the pack was run. Her place in the pack was an extension of her mate's. An unmated woman in the pack was the lowest of the pack. Greg’s pack was a bit more updated, with the Alpha having only been alive for the past 33 years and he simply wouldn’t stand for that “archaic mentality” as he put it. But some of the older pack members from when Gil had been Alpha found it hard to comply with the more modern belief of a woman’s place and left. In turn, this caused Greg’s pack to house younger wolves. Most were from the early 1900’s. In fact, Seamus and Ailis, Greg’s second and his mate, were probably the oldest members of the pack.

            She turned to me. “Will you actually join us for supper since you helped prepare it?”

            I looked down at the food. It did smell delicious but I knew that my joining them probably wouldn't be the best idea. “I think I'll just take some home. I need to feed Aubrey anyway,” I answered with a smile.

            She sighed but didn't argue. I knew Nichole Reeves was joining them for supper tonight and she was one wolf that didn't think I belonged near the pack. I was just a mundane human. It didn't matter that I was the Alpha's sister. In her mind, once you became pack, the pack became your new family and you left your old one behind. Actually, most of the wolves felt that way but, for love of their Alpha, they kept quiet. Only she and few other wolves actually voiced their disapproval of me. I think if I were actually blood, it wouldn't matter so much. I'd have some sort of a tie but I was adopted. I didn't belong and I didn't want to disturb the pleasant evening this meal was sure to bring but even more, I didn't want to set off Greg's temper again.

            I couldn’t help but feel a little sad for the wolves like Nichole. My guess was, her family disapproved of her being a werewolf. In fact, they probably ran her out and that was why she thought you should have no tie to your former life. It was probably unusual that I accepted Greg for what he was and it was just something she couldn’t understand.

            I packed a Tupperware bowl full of stew, grabbed two rolls and headed out the back door. Greg and I lived “next door” to each other. We actually lived two miles apart in a small, country town in south Texas but we didn't complain. The town was one of those historic towns with the really old courthouse and museum jail. The kind that held an annual festival and the entire town's schedule, including the schools’, revolved around it for four days or so. It was the last place anyone would think to look for a werewolf pack. Especially one as large as Greg's. He boasted forty wolves in his pack and was able to keep them all perfectly under control. Most Alpha's could only handle about twenty or thirty wolves in a pack. All werewolves were temperamental and a lot of them in one area could get really bad. It was the Alpha's job to not only keep his own temper in check but to keep control of all the wolves in his territory. That included any newly Changed wolves which were difficult at best. A newly Changed wolf never had complete control of their beast and were often lead by them. They were dangerous. A werewolf that leaves his beast in charge means there is no humanity and they'll go around devouring anything in their path just because. I only knew of one Alpha in history to fail in his role.

            As rumor has it, he was so old; he didn’t care to live anymore. He had lived for 10 centuries and was just tired. He allowed three new wolves to run wild in his city. In one night they took the lives of nearly twenty people. The rest of the pack brought them down and made sure that they had media control. There was a fund setup for the families of the individuals and each were taken care of for the rest of their natural lives. The Council, the meeting of all the Alphas in the States, decided that for his blatant disregard, not only for human life but for the protection of the species, he was to be put to death. They injected silver into his blood stream and then cut his head off for good measure. That was thirty years before Greg became Alpha.

            I sighed as I stepped outside. The walk home was pleasant. One of those early autumn evenings with the sun setting and a cool breeze tossing my hair this way and that. It was one of those afternoons where I would've taken my time to enjoy the elements if it weren't for the fact that I really did have to feed Aubrey, my ferret. The poor thing. He was probably going stir crazy in his cage. He wasn't too particularly fond of it.

            I opened the door to my home and sighed again. My living room, even with the glass cleaned up and the sofa set right, was still a disaster. It was disheartening to see. I could hear Aubrey in his cage in the back corner of the kitchen, rattling against the wire door. I smiled. Such fervor for such a small creature. He was small, smaller than most ferrets, weighing about 2 pounds. He was also completely white, save for a few gray hairs on the tip of his tail. He was extremely intelligent, though, and I had to come up with inventive ways of actually keeping him in his cage.

            “Hello Aubrey,” I greeted him, “do you want out?” I set the stew on the counter. “You'll just have to wait a little while longer. I need to make sure there isn't anything in the living room you can hurt yourself on.”

            Ferrets, by nature, were extremely curious creatures and seemed to be completely oblivious to any danger. Either that or they simply didn't care. Either way, I wasn’t taking a chance that there wasn't anything my little companion could hurt himself on. At the end of the day, he was the only thing I had to come home to and I would be crushed if anything happened to him.

            I searched the living room thoroughly; making sure all glass was up before checking the rest of my home for any other damaged rooms. Thankfully, it was just the living room. I walked back into the kitchen and smiled to seem my little friend hanging on the side of the cage, waiting for me to release him.

            “I brought a treat,” I said, opening the cage door and grabbing him under his front legs with one hand. “Beef stew. Chrysty and I worked extra hard on it so I don't want any lip about how it's not good enough. Understand me?” He crawled up onto my shoulder and buried his nose in my hair, tickling my neck.

            I set him down on the floor so he could roam about.  It didn't take long for him to take off. I smiled as he headed in to the living room to see the disaster caused by my own family. Smiling, I took his bowl out of the cage and poured some of my stew into it, leaving it on the floor for him to access easily.

            Grabbing my own meal, I sat at the kitchen table and began to eat. I wouldn't lie. Sometimes, it could be rather lonely not having my brother's attention anymore. Or anyone's attention for that matter. I should be used to it by now, though. Greg was Changed when I was 19. It's been six years since then. I've been on my own ever since. It shouldn't matter. But it did. Of course it did. Because before that, before the Munroes adopted me, I was always alone. And being alone, while it didn't scare me, it made me...uncomfortable. After all, I was alone when my mother died.

Reviews

[Nick.B]

Interesting first chapter, the idea of the story seems good, curious to see where will this continue...great job