The Werewolf Genesis

"A long time ago, in a land vastly different to this, lived a man and his wife. They were a simple couple, surviving mainly by themselves in a land controlled by greedy rulers, kings that fought for every piece of land, and Alpha’s that sought to control everyone else.

"They were happy, or they would have been, only they were missing one piece in their world. A child. Now, the wife was not barren, nor was it because she was unwilling to have a child or that the husband could not either. It was a far more serious reason. You see, this couple were no ordinary mortals.

"They were werewolves.

"The beings that tormented humans, hunted them, took joy in their fears. They were the monsters that horror novels were wrote about, the man-wolf beasts that went savage on the full moon and transformed into humanoid figures with bulging muscles, deform muzzles, covered in coarse fur and blood lust filled eyes….Or so humans claimed.

"However, this couple were nothing like these creatures humanity feared. They did not become humanoid beasts intent on ravaging villages for human flesh. Rather on the week of the full moon, they were subject to transforming into what to the human eye saw, appeared to be normal wolves, though size varied depending on the human size. Some were larger unable to pass as normal wolves, while others were small enough to pretend to be dogs.

"Overall, they were a peaceful couple and did no wrong. They stayed away from the attention of hunters and passing mortals. Until, one day chance would bring a witch to them. This is where the tale of the happy couple begins to darken. You see the wife was pregnant, she experienced the first symptoms of carrying a child and knew that in a week, when the moon was full, the Change would kill her child.

"Witches are cruel beings by nature. Ones that desire power above others, many are tainted by the allure of Black magic. Not many witches practiced light magic, for it was weaker and in this time of internal war between the covens, they coveted strength.

"The couple, eager for a child, approached the witch and begged, pleaded with her to help them. To cast a spell to suppress the wife’s wolf for each full moon until she could birth a child. At first the witch refused but at the constant appeal of the wolves, she gave in. For a price.

"Though that charge was not revealed to the wolves before they signed the contract, staining the old paper with their blood to seal it. A change overcame the wife, she felt it in her soul. The power of her wolf was receding, slowly retreating back from her mind until she feared it was gone completely.

"Her work done; the witch left. With a cruel smile that the family could not see. They were too giddy, too excited about the prospect of a child. Time passed and when the husband Changed on the full moon, his wolf taking over, his wife did not accompany him for the first time since they were both Bitten.

"Months drifted on and the female wolf grew large with the baby in her belly. But she was weakening. As she neared the end of her pregnancy, she was ill. Her body weak and strained against the pressure of carrying a child. Wolf women were not created to survive months without the connection to their other half, and she’d went nine months without feeling her partner.

"The night of the birth was a terrible one. She screamed and cried and snarled. The husband, alone, tried to ease her pain as much as he could. His wolf raging within him at the sight of his mate’s agony. But after hours of suffering, a little girl was born.

"Smiling, the husband cradled his baby in his arms about to hand her to his wife only to hear a fading beat. The wife exhausted from childbirth and weakening greatly from the loss of her wolf was dying. Her breathing was shallow, her chest rising and falling too slow, eyes drooping and blurring with tears. Now, the husband wept in fear, gently placing his new-born in his wife’s trembling arms as he frantically begged his wife to stay with him.

"Her skin was pale, her eyes lids closing as the ever-present shine in her blue orbs dimmed. Was this the payment the witch had sought? The mother’s life in exchange for the birth of her daughter? Seething now, the husband growled low, his wolf too close to the surface. He was helpless and forced to watch his mate die.

"The light cries of his child, a whining more natural to the throat of a distressed pup, reached them suddenly and he looked down in shock to see two bright yellowish amber eyes peering up at him. Wolf eyes. His daughters eyes.

"A sudden rush of power flowed over him and deep within him, his wolf howled. Mate. His mate was back. His wife’s eyes fluttered open swirling her own dark amber as she inhaled deeply. Her wolf’s essence surged over him and his daughter then and the child’s cries lessoned in reaction..."

“So, she lived? That’s a shit story, Bran. Not a horror at all…”

“Yeah man, I was expecting some serious thing to happen. Like the female wolf died and the father went on a rampage and slaughtered the witch.”

“Guys I’m not finished! So, shut up and listen, jeez.”

Three boys were slumped on the couch beneath a bunk bed. Each of them dressed lightly in a t-shirt and pyjama bottoms. The room was dark, save for the light of the alarm clock revealing that it was well past three am. Bran was leaning against the wall, his light brown hair appearing black in the darkness and tousled over his forehead as he frowned at his companions.

Sitting by him was a smaller boy with mousey brown hair and light green eyes, sparkled with amber. Jayce sniggered at the other boy’s annoyance and rolled his eyes shrugging to the taller boy beside him. Carter had a stronger build than his friends and coupled with his darker skin tone and hair colour, he appeared older than the others. Even though out of the three, he was the youngest.

“Ok fine, go on then,” Carter smirked as he leant back on the bed.

They were not using their senses. They were unprepared and irritation welled through me from where I’d silently snuck into the room and leant against the drawer. The darkness aided me in remaining hidden, but their keen noses should have found me from the moment I entered.

“Alright, so the child is born, right? So, she’s a born wolf. The first ever...” Bran began, and I gritted my teeth.

“Wait? What’s so great about a born wolf? We’re all born wolves,” Jayce cut him off with a frown.

“Yes, but it’s not normal, weren’t you listening?” Bran huffed crossing his arms. As he did, I watched his nose twitch and he stiffened. “Wait…guys, do you smell that?”

“Smell what?” Carter grumbled before inhaling. He stood and frowned into the dark, his eyes seemingly passing over me. Another fault for them, they were not trusting their sight. The amber ring around his brown eyes was weak right now and I smirked, leaning in close to the boy.

“The big bad wolf,” I whispered, my breath caressing his face.

The reactions were comical to say the least. On the bed, both Bran and Jayce jumped to their feet, eyes alighting with amber in fright while before me Carter jumped back releasing a squeak and startled “Holy shit!” in a rather high-pitched voice.

“Boys, it’s late, you should be asleep, you are hunting tomorrow with Reece,” I drawled leaning back on the press as a panting Carter stumbled over to flick on the light. All of us winced at the sudden brightness before the boys scowled at me.

“M-Mom! What the hell?!”

Stepping forward my hand connected with the back of Bran’s head before swiftly kissing Carter’s head also. Both boys cringed and whined lowly as Jayce backed up warily. “No cursing and it is not my fault you are all neglecting your nature. I could have been a Rogue and killed you all while you were busy gossiping.”

“It wasn’t gossip,” Jayce protested blushing when my eyes fixated on him. “Bran was trying to tell us a horror story.”

“More like failing,” Carter snorted.

“What he was telling you wasn’t a horror but history,” I sighed levelling my gaze with my son, who glanced away sheepishly.

“History? What history?” Carter pressed, sending Bran a curious look. I remained silent deciding to let my son answer.

“Our history. The way born wolves came about,” He muttered kicking one foot against the other.

“More importantly, how the first one was created. Mom.”

“M-Mom?” Jayce and Carter repeated turning to me with wide eyes. “You mean you, Danica?”

“Who else is Mom to him?” I retorted, rolling my eyes. “I am not as young as I look boys. In fact, I am older than all the technology in this room.”

“How old?”

Bran’s hand smashed against Carter’s arm hard enough to make the other boy wince and he scowled, “Don’t ask her age! It’s rude!”

“I am over two centuries old, boys,” I sighed straightening and moving to the door. “You are alive because I enabled it. The story of the little girl, Bran told, was of me. And he is right, it is a horror but not one you are going to learn yet. Sleep.”

The words were casual but an order over laced them, forcing the boys to their beds when what they truly wished for was to hear the end of that story. I slipped from the room, turning off the switch and shutting the door after me. I listened to them shuffle into their beds before sighing and rubbing my forehead.

It had started off as a dream, a nightmare of that night once more but I’d woken. I’d woken before anything bad actually happened, instead I had to listen to my son retell my story. I knew he would tell the others, I gave him permission, they deserved to know why Born wolves were so rare. Why there were actually only ten of us in existence. Me being the first.

It wasn’t natural for female werewolves to carry young to birth. The lure of the full moon gave them no option but to Change from human to wolf. The Change broke our bones, rearranged our organs and teared our muscles. In a way, it destroyed our bodies each time we preformed it. Therefore, it prevented women having children as it tore them apart each moon.

Yet two centuries ago, my parents defied natures wish and had me. The events that followed may have been nature’s way of righting the wrong, though I feel that my parents had been manipulated from the beginning by that witch. Though she wasn’t a threat now.

The reason she wasn’t, was walking towards me right now. Opening my eyes, I tilted my head and let my gaze focus on the man approaching me. Darius had once been a Rogue but ended up becoming my Guardian. He was a tall, built man only appearing in his mid-twenties though you’d have to add two centuries to get close to his true age. Black eyes looked me over as he came to a halt and folded his arms, his dark tanned skin in contrast to the white shirt he’d thrown on. “You can’t sleep?”

“That obvious?” I retorted pushing from the door and falling into step with him as we made our way down the narrow stairs to the bare kitchen.

“Dreams again?”

“You heard Bran talking,” I muttered placing myself on the stool at the island counter as he moved around and hit the button on the kettle.

To this day, it astounded me how electricity could heat water so quickly. I remembered when we’d have to use a fire and wait. Moments like this, times when I was faced to realise that this age of technology was vastly different to the world I was born to, forced me to come to terms with the fact that my age was unnatural. Wolves, unless murdered, could hold immortal lives. Yet we lived in a world that was not friendly to immortals, it changed too quickly for us to keep up with, when humans could adapt so much easier.

“You should have never told him,” Darius answered listening to the water boil as he reclined against the counter, his dark eyes frowning at me with disapproval.

“He deserves to know how his mother and father could have him, when others can’t,” I sighed rubbing my eyes as he began pulling down two cups.

“It wasn’t your fault they died.”

“I should have saved them, Darius. Instead, the Rogues killed four of my friends and now Bran and Nicki are orphans.”

“They aren’t orphans. They have you, you have taken them in,” He responded gently placing a hot cup of tea before me before sitting himself opposite me and tilting his head.

“What else was I to do? Abandon the two children that Marisa begged me for? The children she had almost died to have? I couldn’t do that Darius.” My fingers stung from the heat of the mug as I cupped it and lifted it to my lips, taking a sip.

“You told him the whole truth, then? The deal, your mother weakening, your birth, the witch returning…me?” He asked, his eyes dropping from mine to the counter with awkwardness. Darius’s and I’s beginning wasn’t the best, in fact he killed my father, but that was a story I didn’t want to relive at the moment.

“I told him that the witch tortured my parents as revenge for her true intentions not coming true. I told him that you were a Rogue attracted by the scent of blood and that because I contained a wolf, I was a born wolf, it forced your dominant wolf to be protective of me and save me,” I shrugged glancing away from him. “If you want him to know the full truth you may tell him yourself, I only told him what was necessary and that was how I was born a werewolf.”

Darius sighed heavily and downed his tea before looking at me closely, “I scented wolves nearby when I was running.”

“Wolves? Pack wolves or Rogues?”

“Pack. Dani, it’s not right for us to remain here, I know you have a reason for wanting to be in South America but it’s not safe for the others.” His voice was insistent, earnest and I understand his worry. South American wolves were wild and not ruled as a unit, instead they were lone packs that battled each other for territory and females. I would know, when I was younger after an argument with Darius I’d ventured down South and regretted it. “We are no ordinary pack. You cannot call us a pack; our members are old enough that our wolves would not submit like lower pack members to another as Alpha.”

“We are family and we survive like it,” I spoke glancing up as footsteps sounded upstairs. Light little patters, that hurried down the stairs to the source of the light. “We have no immediate threat, Darius. We are in no man’s land.”

“We are in Rogue land,” He hissed back, his eyes sparking as his wolf surfaced in frustration to my words. He forced himself to lean back and school his sharp features back into a blank mask as a small figure scampered into the room.

“Momma,” her voice zipped through my very being and I felt my wolf surge up at the fear that coated her call.

Twisting, I was out of my chair and to the door scooping the young six-year-old into my arms. Her own little arms curled tightly around my neck, pulling on my dark hair as she pressed her head against my neck. A low whimper rose in her throat and I found myself growling softly at some unseen threat. Unlike her brother and the other boys, young Veronica was more entwined with her wolf than them, where they relied on human nature, she looked to her wolf, like me. Therefore, even though she was six, she barely spoke any unnecessary words and preferred touch and smell for comfort.

“It was only a dream, Nicki. You’re safe,” I breathed stroking her hair as she trembled a little. Nightmares seemed to be common right now. Biting my lip, I looked to Darius who watched me with dark eyes, could this be a sign?