Three wolves raced through the dense forest, their forms a blur of motion as they weaved between ancient trees and leaped over gnarled roots. The sheer speed of their playful chase ruffled their fur, a momentary thrill of childish abandon.
Suddenly, their synchronized gallop faltered. A harsh, unfamiliar sound ripped through the tranquil symphony of birdsong. The screech of tires, the unmistakable groan of a bus braking, echoed through the stillness, a jarring intrusion upon the natural harmony.
Instinctively, the three wolves connected through their pack mind link, a silent language gifted at birth, allowing seamless communication even when human words were impossible.
Did you hear that? One thought rippled through the shared consciousness.
Is it them? Another voice, laced with apprehension.
Let's go look! Luca's mental command cut through his friends' uncertainty, his tone brooking no argument. His father, the Alpha, had spoken of the defectives' return to the pack lands. A hollow gesture of acceptance, Luca knew. Their pack, for reasons he couldn't fathom, was taking in the rejects of other packs. His father, ever calculating, saw an opportunity to curry favour with the soon-to-be Red Moon Queen. A distasteful ploy, Luca thought, for his father held a deep-seated hatred for defectives, valuing only raw power.
Luca himself had never truly seen a defective. Tradition dictated that any wolf born different was exiled by the age of two. In his own birth year, no such misfortune had befallen the pack. Since then, others had been born… different. But they were younger, strangers to him. Whispers among the younger generation spoke of a mark, a cursed brand that set them apart, reminiscent of the biblical Cain.
This would be his first real encounter. He wondered about their appearance as adults. Were they as weak and fragile as the elders claimed? Rumours circulated – tales of mutation, extra fingers, eyes set too low, sparse hair, and stunted growth, no larger than a human. It was said that during the winter solstice full moon, they would convulse in agony, rejected by the Moon Goddess, unable to partake in the forced shift.
A rational part of Luca's mind cautioned him against believing everything he had heard. Yet, his curiosity burned. He wanted to know, to see for himself, even if his future subjects proved unwilling.
The large bus lumbered into view, still over two hundred meters away. With a fluid grace, Luca shifted back into his human form, his tall frame lowering into a crouch behind the thick trunk of a pine. Beside him, Johnny and Simon underwent the same transformation, fur receding to reveal skin, wolfish snouts morphing into human faces, the cracking and reforming of bone a familiar, unremarkable sight.
All three stood naked. Human modesty was a concept alien to wolves. To shift cleanly, one needed to be unburdened by clothing. Restricting the change could lead to injury, a wolf caught in its own constricting fabric resembling a panicked house cat trapped in a harness, reduced to a pathetic, immobile lump.
Nudity was commonplace within the pack. By the time of their first shift, every young wolf had witnessed it countless times. It was simply a part of life.
"There's so many of them," Simon blurted out, only to receive a sharp knock to the head from Johnny. Their proximity to the approaching group was now close enough for the pack warriors to potentially hear and punish their unauthorized observation. The pack had been explicitly told to avoid the area, to not frighten the fragile newcomers. The defectives' own families were meant to ease them into the knowledge of their wolf blood.
Shut up, Johnny's mental reprimand snapped at Simon.
A knot of unease tightened in Johnny's chest. Defectives were a taboo subject, rarely spoken of within families. But his own family held a secret – a defective born a year before him, an older sister. His parents had systematically erased her existence from their home. Johnny had only known her for a fleeting year, a year lost to the fog of early childhood. He didn't even know her name. His persistent questions had only earned him scoldings, eventually silencing him, but never extinguishing the yearning to know his lost sibling.
All photographs of her had been destroyed. No one spoke of her, certainly not within the pack. Once exiled, it was as if they had never existed.
A sudden thought sparked within him: could his sister be among this group? His eyes scanned each disembarking figure, searching. Would he recognize her? Would he feel that familiar bond, the one that linked him to his other sister, a connection so profound it needed no explanation, a silent understanding that forbade harm? There were different levels of these bonds, but the familiar bond and the mate bond were the strongest, almost impossible to override without inflicting pain upon oneself.
"She's pretty," Luca murmured, projecting an image into their shared mind – a girl with black hair bound with silver, held protectively in the arms of a short man.
"You can't even see her face," Simon chuckled.
Johnny remained silent, the conversation prickling his skin with discomfort. "We should go. We're supposed to be at the training house."
His friends showed no urgency. Johnny understood Luca's nonchalant attitude – the Alpha's son could often bend the rules. But Simon was like him, a regular pack member striving to climb the ranks, becoming a warrior. Association with Luca could only take them so far.
Seeing their lack of movement, Johnny turned and began to jog towards the training house alone, shifting back into his wolf form mid-stride. His common brown fur blended into the distance as he darted away.
Luca felt a subtle quickening of his pulse as he watched the group of humans begin to walk in the direction of the old training house. There was nothing particularly interesting happening, yet he felt an inexplicable pull to stay, to observe, his gaze lingering on one particular figure within the group.
Simon nudged his shoulder, a silent reminder of their obligations. With a final, lingering look at the retreating figures, Luca shifted. His black and brown furred wolf was significantly larger than his friends, standing almost as tall as his seven-foot-one human form.
With his powerful build, Luca easily caught up to Johnny, falling into pace with his two friends as they headed towards the training house. Upon their arrival, one of the warriors stood waiting outside.
Row upon row of men and women emerged from the training house, clad in their standard training attire – simple black shorts and shirts. Some carried weapons strapped to their backs, but most were unburdened. Wolves, after all, were not known for fighting with tools against their own kind. It was rarely necessary.
The three boys hurried inside, quickly grabbing appropriate clothing before rejoining the throng. Though not technically late, their tardiness did not escape the notice of the lead warrior, his assessing gaze narrowing on them.
Luca remained unfazed, offering a nonchalant shrug before turning his attention forward, mirroring the rest of the group.
"As you know," the warrior, Thomas, began, his voice carrying authority, "to strengthen the human is to strengthen the wolf. There will be another warrior exam in three months' time. And as it stands, none of you are ready."
Thomas surveyed the assembled group of potential warriors, his expression critical. The warrior exam was notoriously difficult, and each wolf had only three chances to pass in their lifetime. Success required scores and times within the top three percent – an achievable goal, but one demanding immense dedication and effort. Currently, sixty percent of the pack were warriors, a majority being men, though women were not excluded.
However, if a female warrior found her mate or bore children, she would become ineligible to remain in their ranks. Personally, Thomas saw limited value in extensively training the pack's women to be warriors. Basic self-defense was necessary, but the calling of a warrior was a higher one, a physical commitment he believed most women were inherently unsuited for.
An unmated woman could be exceptionally formidable, a perfect warrior. But the moment she chose a mate, the powerful mate bond and the instinct to protect became overwhelming. Men, he believed, possessed an innate protective drive from birth, an instinct they could not ignore. For women, this instinct only truly awakened with mating and intensified exponentially after childbirth. Their protective force, while potent, was primarily directed towards their family. This, in his view, was why they could not remain warriors, even if they swore off ever having children. It made no difference.
Therefore, he consciously invested less intensive training in the female warriors. If they were determined to become true warriors, that drive would have to come from their own unwavering will. He was not willing to expend extra effort on what he considered an eventual loss.
"Today, we will focus solely on shifting," Thomas announced.
The requirement for the exam was a shift completed in half a second. Anything slower resulted in immediate disqualification.
"For thirty minutes, you will shift back and forth, without stopping. Anyone who halts before the thirty minutes are up will be ineligible for the second exam of the year."
The gravity of the task finally settled upon the rows of trainees. The exam only occurred three times a year. Missing an opportunity could feel like a lifetime put on hold. And with only three chances in their entire lives, none could afford to waste one.
Thomas's keen eyes scanned the large group of aspiring talent, and he remained unimpressed. The Alpha's son included. Had he not known Luca's lineage, he would have considered him merely average. But given his bloodline, he was, in Thomas's estimation, subpar.
Descendants of the Alpha had historically displayed exceptional strength and aptitude. Luca's middling performance was an anomaly. The more Thomas observed him, the more uncertain he became. Was it a genuine lack of talent, or simply laziness born of the privilege of his lineage? Luca was undoubtedly aware that being the Alpha's son made him the heir apparent. But that title wouldn't protect him from a challenge. Currently, only those in this training group knew they could potentially stand against him. The moment he left this class, his weakness would become apparent, a rare opportunity for others in the pack to challenge the current bloodline, to aspire to a position of greater power.
Moving to Luca's side, Thomas watched him intently as he shifted repeatedly, wolf to human, human to wolf. Luca's skin had lost its colour, his face pale and strained, on the verge of collapse.
The instructor's unwavering presence fueled Luca's growing frustration. He knew he was struggling, each shift becoming more laboured, his body screaming in protest. Bruises and blood blossomed at the shifting points, where bone and muscle tore and reformed. The constant, sloppy transformations were causing internal damage.
His father's harsh voice echoed in his mind: Do you know whose blood flows in your veins? Some of the greatest wolves who ever lived. And you shame them all. The cutting words from the past spurred him on, a perverse motivation to continue even as he inflicted further injury upon himself.
Glancing at his watch, Thomas noted that the thirty minutes were not yet up. But observing the deteriorating state of the group, he knew they wouldn't reach the mark.
"Stop!" he commanded. Those with a proper sense of time knew they had all failed. "No one in this group will be eligible for the next exam."
Unlike the others, Luca felt a flicker of relief. He knew he wasn't ready. Even though he was destined to be the next Alpha, becoming a warrior was about demonstrating his strength, the power of the next generation. The longer he could postpone that day, the better. As things stood, he knew he would be vulnerable as Alpha.
Challenges would be constant, each one a potential death sentence. He would be forced to fight challenger after challenger, regardless of any previous injuries. Only a swift, undisputed victory would deter others from questioning his bloodline.
But like the rest of the trainees, he feigned anger and disappointment, shooting a resentful glare at the instructor. He didn't want anyone to suspect his reluctance to embrace his future role.
"Do not be discouraged," Thomas continued, his tone softening slightly. "No one here lacks potential. Just determination."
With those final words, he turned to prepare his monthly report. Each month, he provided a formal assessment of the trainees' progress. But he knew the Alpha would be most interested in the progress – or lack thereof – of his son.
In his human form, Thomas ran at a leisurely pace towards the Beta's residence. To the younger wolves, those still mastering their transformations, he appeared as a fleeting breeze, a prickle of awareness they struggled to track. But to the seasoned warriors, his movements were easily discernible, a deliberate display of controlled speed.
As he approached the large front gates of the Beta's home, ten warriors stood guard, strategically positioned. The one closest to the gate offered a respectful nod, signaling to another guard to grant him entry.
The large, modern house stood imposingly, home to only the Beta, his wife, and the permanent security detail. Reaching the massive black door, Thomas knocked twice and waited. Even before it opened, the distinct scent of a mated female wolf, the Beta's wife, wafted through the heavy wood.