Pack Leader

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Before I tell you anything, I want you to accept one simple fact. I am a werewolf. This probably doesn’t mean a t to to you, since the human mind, I’ve found, isn’t very good at taking in things that don’t seem to be real. Well, I know my existence. I was bitten by a werewolf and I became one myself. I know I’m not hallucinating because I remember everything that happens, and because an uninfected human who was fully alert saw me change. You’ll probably want a background. I’ll tell you what I can, but I can’t tell you what city my pack is in or anything specific like that. Names are fine because werewolves call each other different names than they allow humans to call them. We are allergic to nickel, not silver. That got confused in the human mind, I think, because nickel looks like silver when it’s polished. That’s why we can still wear silver jewelry. Lycanthropy isn’t contagious unless we bite you in animal form. Otherwise you’re fine. A scratch won’t infect you either. We rarely use our claws anyway. The form that is shown in movies is only partial transformation. Most humans run away before we’re fully transformed, and that’s why we’re depicted so grotesquely. After we’ve fully transformed, we’re just like regular wolves in appearance, except that we’re about twice the size of a normal wolf. In human form we have just as much energy and ability as in animal form. The problem with that is, we never give up our habits, either. We can shift at any time, but we have to during the full moon. If we don’t, we don’t know what would happen because no one has had the strength to keep from changing. Most of us can blend in with the human crowd. I am one of the most apt at that because I am an alpha female. We are immortal because we don’t age, and we heal fast. We try to avoid killing people as much as possible, but we make exceptions for cruel or unjust people.

Our pack is in an upheaval because our leader was killed recently, and his beta died trying to save him. There are too many alternate as, ts, too many possible leaders. We’re all competing for the position, and the only way to get there is to fight, as with all changes in rank among the pack. The entire pack is scattered and divided. Loyalties and allies change quickly. Pack life has become as dangerous as the human world. I wish to unthemthem. I am afraid of the motives of some of the others.

I am short – around five foot four – and I have wavy light brown hair that falls around my shoulders. My eyes are dark blue. I have a slender frame, but there is plenty of muscle there. I can lift the back end of a loaded semi with one hand. Werewolves are so much better than humans that we’re about twenty times faster in all aspects. I am also tall – three and a half feet at the shoulder – and long – six feet from nose to the tip of the tail. My coat is white with some sprinklings of grey over my shoulders and neck and back. My eyes are green. They don’t glow. They reflect the light, like all eyes, but they don’t glow. That’s a myth made up by frightened witnesses. I don’t have any beta followers because I’ve never bitten anyone – and left them alive. No one should be forced into that. I would only bite a human if they found out what I was and wished to become one of us. But I try my best to keep my identity a secret.

It is difficult sometimes. Especially sitting outside a café sipping some ice water. All the dull, weak humans sitting around me chattering animatedly have no idea they are so close to a dangerous predator. I can always spot a fellow lycan because for one thing, werewolf visitors from other cities are rare because of our territorial natures, and because we seem to radiate energy. Humans can’t sense it with the better pretenders, like me, unless we do something to show off our graceful, athletic qualities, but we can’t hide it from each other. Anyway, I can feel my muscles tensing as I watch all the humans. I can’t help studying them, staring at some of them, picking out the weak and ill and injured, and smelling theirlinglings. Some of them are so appealing, like an older man with a prosthetic leg. It’s hard to describe the things that happen within me. My muscles are tense, my keen senses focus directly on him, and I go very still. The urge to chase, to wound, to kill, fills my head, but I am an alpha. I control my beast. I pay my bill and leave. I return to our pack’s den, an underground network of caves. Being human always feels like such a burden, so I usually change into a wolf when I’m safe inside, but it’s not safe inside anymore. You may wonder about clothing. We all wear baggy clothing so that as we shift in and out, we can slip into or out of it easily. In an emergency, we just rip it off. A fellow alpha, and one of my few friends in the unstable pack, comes to my side, nuzzling my shoulder a little to show his respect and submission. He could be competing with me for dominance, but he’s never really been a fighter. I kiss his forehead to show my acceptance and appreciation. If I become the pack leader, he would be my mate.

Another alpha male does the same. He has the same quiet nature as my beau, but he’s more like a beta follower to me, like a child of mine. Their human names were Thomas and Jacob, but among the pack they were Xavier and Keenan. Xavier was the one I wished for a mate. He was only a little taller than me in both forms, and in both forms his eyes were emerald. His hair was black and his coat was as well. Keenan had sweet light blue eyes. He had the same color in wolf form, but only because he wasn’t fully grown. I always wondered what color his eyes would be when he was full grown. “Full growth” just means you’ve been a werewolf for more than three years, since we don’t technically age, and he had only been one for two years. He was also a possible mate, but that’s because we don’t always have just one. His hair was blond, but in wolf form it was dark grey with some brown tones.

Speaking of mates, you may wonder about lycan sex. I can tell you it’s very public among the pack; in fact, it’s almost like a show. There are several ways to do it; start as a human and end wolf, stay human, stay wolf, etc. We call it sex in human form, mating in wolf form. Xavier was a little over-eager for it then because he snapped at Keenan when I bestowed my kiss and stripped, whimpering at my feet and massaging my thighs, his head against my crotch. I looked around. Everyone was already watching. They needed the “entertainment” lately because of the turmoil. I wasn’t usually promiscuous, but I stood still as Xavier snarled at Keenan once more before bestowing all of his attention to my thighs, whimpering as he waited for approval. I nodded once. I’d only ever had sex with the pack leader before, never with Xavier. The pack leader had always enjoyed it more in human form. I didn’t know what to expect from Xavier. He unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, pulling them down. My shoes had come off at the door so I wouldn’t step ny pny paws and hurt them, so I kicked off the jeans. He pulled my shirt and bra off, but knelt again, lapping at the curly dark hairs of my crotch. His hands were hard on my buttocks. Even as a dominant alpha female, I couldn’t do anything during mating. Males were dominant no matter what during sex. I had to do as he instructed. He pushed me down and separated my legs. A wolf came a little too close and Xavier snapped at him. He turned my on my back and inserted himself. He began to change, so I changed too. Soon we were wolves. It was done quickly, and people applauded. Half-wolves roared with pleasure. Wolves howled. Xavier strutted off, tail held high. Normally, it wasn’t allowed for non-dominant wolves to carry their tails that high, but at this point, no one was sure who was dominant and who wasn’t. There were about thirty wolves in our pack. I growled at a beta male who thought he might get a little too. He trotted off. I nuzzled Keenan to show him my favor, and he smiled. He was still human. He back to whatever he’d been doing. I kept going toward my original destination.

“Arian, why am I not surprised to see you here?” Rudolph snarled.

There were eleven alpha males vying for the position of pack leader. I was the only alpha female. Dominant females are few and far between among the pack. Rudolph was at his ugliest, his wolfman form. He had red-brown fur and dull brown hair. His eyes were hazel and amber. He was always taller than me, but it was less noticeable when he was a wolf. He wasn’t really my chief enemy; he was just a pain in the ass and a chauvinist. He thought it wasn’t right that a female should be allowed to be pack leader.

I snarled at him. He snarled back, but mine was more throaty and impressive. He knew it. So did everyone else. It just made him more insistent that I shouldn’t be allowed. Everyone’s chief enemies were Dameon and Tybalt. Dameon was more suave and bureaucratic, while Tybalt was all brawn. Both of them were equally capable of tearing your throat out. The ones currently fighting had the least chance of being pack leader – Gabriel and Herod. Too bad, because I liked Gabriel. He was nice. But he didn’t stand a chance. He was going to die. He had chosen to fight in his wolf form. Herod was in half-wolf or partially transformed. He was winning. I hated him. I sat and did nothing. I could not interfere. It was pack law, and showing Gabriel that I respected his skills. To fight would have told him that I thought him incapable. He was bleeding profusely from several gashes. We heal fast, but not that fast. He was going to die. Herod danced aside as the red wolf stumbled at him. He grinned, flashing bloody fangs. He was going to let Gabriel bleed to death. A snarl from Dameon made him change his mind. Some of us were cruel, but we couldn’t endure this. It was barbaric and we were bestial enough; we had to make limits for ourselves if we didn’t seem to have any. Herod ran in and clamped his jaws around Gabriel’s neck. A snap resounded. The red wolft lit limp, his bloody tongue protruding from his mouth. I hated Herod. Two beta males took the body away, wrapping it in a blanket. I was glad I wasn’t the only one who went to church on Sundays. I don’t have a denomination, but I am Christian. I try to live by it as much as possible, in spite of my animal sins.

“Herod has triumphed. There are ten remaining contestants,” Dameon said as though he were already in charge. “Sven will battle him tomorrow at this same hour.”

I hated both of them. They were both grey-brown and nasty. I would have shattered their skulls in my jaws, but I cannot disobey pack law. I left. I shifted and put my clothes back on, going back out in the human world. I couldn’t stand to be around the den more than I had to be.

I was walking aimlessly through the streets when I saw a man being dragged into an alley by three thugs. No one else seemed to be noticing it, even though the man was screaming bloody murder. My human sense of good nature won out and I ran down the alley. The thugs were trying to beat him up, but he was putting up a pretty good fight. They finally got control of the situation when one of them smacked his head on the wall of the building behind him. I allowed my face to start changing, the bones rearranging to make a muzzle and the teeth becoming canine. I snarled. They stopped and turned to look at me. One of them gasped. That was the end of it. I could smell their fear too thickly. I transformed and tore the leader’s throat out. The other two started running, but I overtook them and crushed them in my jaws. I almost started feeding, but then I remembered the man. I shifted, but he was curled up in a scared ball. I knelt beside him, naked.

“Are you all right?” I asked quietly.

He looked at me with beautiful grey eyes. His dark hair had been neatly combed, but some of it was draped across his temple, slowly creeping up on those magnetic eyes.

“What are you?” he wondered.

I sighed. I got dressed. “Do you have a home around here?”

“Yes, I was just headed there.”

“Could I explain there? It’s too public here.”

He nodded and led the way. He didn’t seem afraid of me, even though he’d seen what I could do. I wasn’t worried about the bodies. People would think they got tangled up with a stray dog. He let me in his apartment. It was nice, in gentle cream and tan tones. I liked it. He offered me a cup of coffee. I declined, but he took some.

“What’s your name?” I inquired.

“David,” he replied. He looked like a David. He really did. He was actually quite muscular. Not like a lycan, mind you, but still muscled. He had held his own for a reason. “What’s your name?” he wondered as he sat down on the tan couch.

I hesitated. Real name or fake name? Pack name or human name? I don’t why I responded as I did.

“Arian,” I answered at last.

He smiled. “It’s a nice name. Would you like to sit?”

I sat rigidly on the loveseat across from the matching couch. A glass coffee table separated us. I didn’t feel separate. He made me feel…comfortable. Welcome. I was over two hundred and I felt so young. I hadn’t been comfortable since I was bitten. Pack life is too dangerous to be comfortable.

“Now, would you like to explain how you became a wolf?” he asked.

It was so funny. He said it so calmly, and with a straight face, like it was normal.

“I’m a lycanthrope,” I said directly. “I was bitten by another werewolf two hundred years ago on my twenty-fifth birthday and I contracted lycanthropy. It is a disease. I have to live with it until Armageddon.”

“You’re a Christian werewolf?” he asked, kind of amazed. Not so amazed that he was offensive, though.

“Yes. I can’t help doing what I do, but I can ask for God’s forgiveness and protection. I never wanted to be what I am.”

I was a little off-guard because anyone else who ever found out or witnessed it ran off screaming, or I killed them. It depends on why they happened to be watching me. He was pleased with my answer though.

“I’m a Christian too. I’m twenty-five. I don’t have time to go to church, but I read the Bible whenever possible. I’ve even got it on audio so that I can listen to it en route to places.”

He showed me the silver cross under his shirt. I showed him mine.

“I thought werewolves were allergic to silver?” he wondered.

I shook my head. “It’s nickel, not silver.”

He stared at me for a second before laughing. “Well isn’t that something? Big surprise to all those people who go around with silver bullets in their guns.”

I almost laughed. It was kind of funny.

“You know, I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes,” he said solemnly.

“I know. It’s the same with all humans.”

“Are there other werewolves around the city?”

“Yes. Somewhere around thirty-two, I think. Gabriel was killed today.”

I realized I was sad. I was sad that Gabriel had died.

“No. The pack leader and the next in line for the position were killed, so we’re competing for it. The pack is divided and no one knows who to trust. He was battling Herod for the spot. There are ten competitors right now. Tomorrow there will be nine. Sven and Herod are going to fight.”

David frowned. “It doesn’t sound very safe.”

“It isn’t, but it’s worse to be solitary. You have to find your own territory and it’s harder to keep your identity a secret.”

We talked about lycans for a while; then I left. He made me promise to visit him tomorrow, after the fight. I didn’t mind. I liked him.

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Herod was half-wolf again. Sven had chosen the same. The lesser wolves would come to watch too when there were five contestants left, but now only the competitors watched. Sven seemed to be losing. It was clinched when one of Herod’s swipes ripped open his jugular vein. They battled as Sven’s lifeblood gushed out. He collapsed and the body was respectfully taken away. Herod was scheduled to fight Lector. I was glad. I didn’t really like Lector, but I knew Herod couldn’t beat him. He was too weak, and too young. He was only forty, having been bitten at ty-ony-one, and Lector was just under one hundred, having been bitten at the same age. Normally werewolves don’t go after healthy people, but that’s why the few survivors were healthy people. I was bitten because a man I was dating hadn’t told me he was a werewolf. He “loved” me so much that instead of kissing me goodnight on my birthday, he bit me. I left after the announcement. I was looking forward to David’s company. I wasn’t disappointed. We spent most of the afternoon finding out about each other’s likes and dislikes. I’d forgotten many of mine, but he made me decide on some. I was glad.

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The fight with Lector and Herod went as expected. Lector slaughtered Herod and was scheduled to fight Garrett, an equally capable werewolf. I didn’t care who won. I didn’t like either of them, but I didn’t hate them, either. There were eight contestants left. Rudolph was the fifth, I was the sixth, and Dameon and Tybalt were seventh and eighth. I vowed to myself that it wouldn’t happen as they expected it to. For now, all I could do was wait and see what happened. As I exited, Keenan and Xavier bounded up to me. We were all in wolf form for a change. I knew what they both wanted. All of the males were interested because I was in heat. I refused them both with a snap and a snarl and went to see David, making sure to shift first.

“So who won tod he he asked as he greeted me.

“Lector,” I replied, relaxing in the friendly atmosphere. “He’s got to fight Garrett. After that it’s Victor, Leonard and Rudolph.”

“Then you, Dameon and Tybalt?” he concluded.

“Yes,” I confirmed. I don’t know why I used their pack names with him. He wasn’t a pack member. But it just seemed wrong to lie to him, so I didn’t.

“You’re in that time, aren’t you?”

“How did you guess?”

“You seem kind of harried and exasperated.”

I almost smiled. “Yes. All of the males are following me with their jaws agape and their flies open. They’ll take their attention off of me tomorrow.”

“That’s short!” he exclaimed.

“Yes, blissfully.”

“Hey, it’s kind of personal, but is werewolf sex different than human sex?” he wondered, lowering his voice like it was dirty.

I shrugged. “We’re much less private about it. We often change forms in the middle of it. It’s everybody in the pack’s business if someone is mating, and everyone watches. It’s very casual. For example, that day I stopped the thugs, I had mated with Xavier before Herod and Gabriel’s fight. I just walked in and he wanted it, so we did. I’m an alpha female, but it’s pack law that even if the pack lr isr is a female, males rule our sex lives.”

David bit his lip. “You mean, if I was a pack member and I wanted to make love to you, you wouldn’t have a say in it?”

“That’s right, except that you’d be an animal like the rest of us. There is no love-making in the lycan world. There is no feeling in it at all. It’s necessary for producing offspring and the males enjoy pulling the law. They’re very horny. But it’s also in pack law that when females are in heat we have the right to refuse it. The most we can do otherwise is make them wait for our approval.”

The sexual tension in the room was sudden, but I handled it like I usually did. I just waited. He was blushing, so I knew he wanted something he considered embarrassing.

“I was just wondering…what it would feel like to be inside you when you changed.”

I became wary. “You have a higher risk of contracting the disease if we did that.”

“But that doesn’t matter to me. I just want to be with you. I think I love you.” He paused. “I don’t want to do it though. Not until we’re ready.”

It felt like a real human couple. I felt wanted and accepted. I did smile, for the first time in a long time.

“I like it that you respect me. I think I love you, too.”

He hesitated. “If I asked you to bite me, would you do it?”

I was startled. “You want to be a lycan?”

“If that’s what it takes to be part of your world.”

“It’s dangerous. And you wouldn’t be my only mate.”

“I know. But would you?”

“It would have to be tonight. The next full moon is tonight, and I don’t want you to suffer. You have a fever until darkness.”

“C’mon, let’s find a safe place to do it.”

“Wait, do you have any animals?”

“No, why?”

“We’ll need to feed, since it’s a forced change.”

“Oh. I’ll go buy some chickens. You find a room in my apartment that should be private and soundproof enough.”

He went out and I selected his bedroom. It was all happening very fast, but I’d never really felt this way about anyone. No one had ever wanted to share my world. It was dangerous, but he was willing. I couldn’t findin min myself to deprive him of what he wanted. He returned with a crate with four chickens in it.

“Will this be enough?”

“Yes, it should be.”

We lay on the bed and waited for dusk. We were naked because we didn’t want to wait to get undressed. The sun began to set, so I stood up and changed. He watched me, not with horror, but with admiration and love.

“You’re magnificent,” he whispered when I was transformed. I lolled my tongue out in a wolf smile.

The chickens began to panic. I ignored them. I wouldn’t need to feed until I tasted and smelled his blood, and I had enough control to go for the chickens. I crawled to his side and waited while he braced himself. I sunk my teeth into his shoulder and pulled away. Normally I savored the sensation of my fangs piercing skin, warm blood filling my mouth, but this time I did that with two of the chickens instead. To his credit, he didn’t scream. He just laid there. The sun set and the moonlight flooded the room. He convulsed a couple of times, then bones and joints began popping and shifting. The first time was always slow and painful. Grey fur began sprouting out of his skin. His dark hair receded into his scalp as his ears slid up his head, changing shape. His face changed, the mouth and nose being projected out so that he had a muzzle. His lips split and revealed that his teeth were canine. Fine white and grey hairs hid the rest of the changes of his face, except for his nose becoming black and dog-like. A fuzzy thing protruded from the small of his back. He groaned as his knees reversed direction, becoming hocks. His fingers shortened and slid back a little from bones that were really claws. His eyes stayed the same grey color. When the transformation was complete, he looked absolutely wonderful and ferocious at the same time. His gaze settled on the chickens and he ran up to them, devouring them ravenously. We sniffed noses and he settled down. He knew he would transform back in the morning with me, and we could go to the den to introduce him as my beta. We trotted out into the living room and watched the night city. It was quiet and peaceful, and his personality hadn’t changed like the other werewolves. He was still kind and gentle. It just brought out his animal nature a bit. He was still warm and friendly. Finally he asked me – not through words, since we can’t speak once the transformation is complete – to show him rules and etiquette among the pack. He learned how to properly greet a superior, and how to greet someone lower. I taught him the laws of the pack and how to stay safe among humans. He seemed to be pretty good at all of it. We returned to the den as humans the next morning.

“Who is this?” Xavier demanded when he and Keenan had bounded up to greet me.

“He is my beta,” I replied.

Xavier took that as his cue to show his dominance. It was like a miniature pack of our own. It happened the same with everyone. Xavier chose to show his dominance by transforming his teeth and slashing David’s shoulder to the bone. He would have struck again, but I snarled at him. He thrashed Keenan instead. Keenan thrashed David and stalked off. David didn’t seem to mind at all.

“I’ll just get them when I get better,” he said when I asked.

I protected him from other wolves. Within my own sub-pack, I couldn’t stop fights for dominance by pack law, but he had nothing to do with other sub-packs. We witnessed two betas mating. David seemed more disturbed by that. He said it was wrong to treat a woman that way. I kissed him. I agreed totally. He chose “Gary” as his fake name, but kept David as his pack name. He stood guard behind me when we went to see Lector and Garrett fight. Lector butchered Garrett. The betas were just as respectful to Garrett’s carcass, but they were actually picking up remains, rather than a whole body. David was half sickened and half interested in it. He was acclimated to pack life. Lector was to fight Victor the next day. We retre to to my den where Xavier and Keenan were already relaxing in wolf form. We shifted and they each licked the corners of my mouth in respect. They’d already asserted their rank, so all he had to do was keep his tail low and they were fine. They still weren’t happy with him, but they couldn’t be displeased, either. I kept my tail high. Theirs lingered somewhere between, Xavier’s higher than Keenan’s. Xavier had killed a cow on the outskirts of the city and dragged it back here, so we gorged ourselves and slept.

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David was amazed to discover the next day that all remained of the wounds from Xavier and Keenan were pinkish scars that would be gone soon as well. I smiled at him. I’d forgotten to tell him how fast we healed. Our pack number had increased to thirty-eight with the full moon, but Garrett’s death made it thirty-seven. Victor was a cleaner fighter, so Lector was dead with a quick snap at the neck. Thirty-six. Victor and Leonard would fight the next day.

The next day came and the fighting chamber had a larger audience. Victor always chose to stay in wolf form. Leonard always chose half-wolf. They had been good friends, so each knew the other’s weaknesses. It was a long fight, and by the end, Victor lay on the ground bleeding to deatd Led Leonard staggered, just barely alive. Leonard was claimed the winner when Victor let out his last breath. Thirty-five pack members remained.

The audience was crowded the following day. David, Keenan and Xavier sat behind me, separating me from the throng. The others’ followers did the same. Rudolph was scared; I could tell. Leonard was worse. His wounds hadn’t completely healed, and Rudolph had chosen to stay half-wolf as well. They circled each other, growling and foaming. Rudolph never moved first. Leonard charged. Rudolph swiped a large gash in his face, sending him sprawling. There was no law about not hitting others when they’re down, so the monstrous half-wolf lunged and dug his teeth into the exposed jugular. The fight deteriorated from there. I thought they fought like common dogs. David agreed with me. Everyone else thought it was great. Their eyes shone. Some of them were even howling, even if they weren’t in wolf form. I left in disgust. I already knew I had to fight Rudolph the next day; I didn’t need to hear it. The thirty-three pack members behind me continued their clamor. I slept early.

.

I chose to fight in wolf form. Rudolph, for a change, did the same. He snarled at me from across the ring, his fur tufted and wild. Mine stood up, bristling to make me appear larger and more intimidating. I growled deep in my chest. He charged like a stray dog. I dropped low, slashed his shoulder, and danced out of reach, light on my paws. I had to stay up, or with Rudolph, it was all over. He hadn’t even touched me. He stood gaping at me, blood oozing out of the injury. Bone glittered at me, white and smooth. He recovered himself and growled at me. He charged again, and I did the same thing, this time to the back of his neck. He howled in pain. I snarled. He tried something different. He ran in, and then changed direction, trying to hit shoulders with me to throw me to the ground. I jumped aside, but not before scoring his hindquarter. This fight was even more exciting to the audience because they’d never seen this style of fighting before. What they didn’t know was that it took less time to slash an enemy open than to chomp on them, and it was more damaging because it was just a ripping motion. I bared my bloody fangs at him and he limped around to face me. My lips curled back to expose all of my sharp teeth. He ran forward, slower from the injuries. I had time to slash his cheek open down to the bone and then score his muzzle before dancing out of his reach again. He was whimpering by then, having given up all shows of toughness. I didn’t want to kill him, but by pack law, it was a fight to the death. I decided to make it quick. I charged instead and snapped his neck. He fell limply to the ground. I growled when over-eager betas tried to make a meal of him. The two Christian betas took the corpse away so nothing would happen to it and they could bury it properly. I hadn’t been touched. I was unscathed and in prime form. I would need it to fight Tybalt. I hoped to reduce the pack number to thirty-three. I hated him passionately. I went to bed after the fight was announced.

.

Tybalt had much the same approach as Rudolph, but he was in half-wolf form, so I had arms to avoid. I never fight in half-form because it looks monstrous. Intimidation isn’t one of my weapons because I wouldn’t be very good at it anyway. Tybalt swiped at me and roared. I ducked it and slashed open his furry thigh, scuttling back before he could retaliate. He roared, even over the noise of the pack. I snarled, white fangs gleaming. It must have scared him, because his approach slowed a bit. He bent down to bite at me, and I ripped open his abdomen. He howled, falling to the ground, trying to keep his guts from spilling out. It wasn’t working very well. He couldn’t move, so I just waited. The pack smelled his blood. He would have died slowly, but the pack converged, feasting on him. I didn’t care. He one one less enemy. It was Dameon that I was afraid to fight. He was a strategist, and he’d seen my style. I wouldn’t get away so easily the next day.

.

Dameon too preferred the wolf form. He circled around me. I turned with him, but this time I didn’t bother with the premonitions he was counting in. His brown eyes widened in surprise as I danced away, blood dripping from my jaws. His ribs glistened. I snapped at him and he jumped. He was afraid. I could smell it so thickly that its taste hung bitterly to my tongue. He wasn’t thinking. I had caught him off-guard. He danced at me, trying my approach, but he wasn’t light enough on his feet. I leapt clear over him, spun and ripped open his other side. He yelped and charged me in anger. I caught his muzzle in my jaws and began to bear down. He cried and cried as I slowly crushed the bones in my steel jaws. I released him and all that remained of his muzzle was a bloody pulp. He made pitiful noises, but none of it was coherent in any way. They were sounds of misery and pain. I ripped his throat out. He fell and did not rise. The pack, all thirty-one of them, even David, fought to eat his flesh. I snarled. They stopped and drew back.

I was the pack leader.