Prologue
When I was in Elementary school, the teachers would ask us questions to get to know us better. Questions such as what was our name, favorite food, and, my favorite, if we could have any superpower, what would it be?
Even at that age I was smart-mouthed and sarcastic.
My name, I would say, is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to be forced to teach me.
My favorite food, I liked to say, was the souls of innocents.
As for a superpower? The superpower to not have to go to school.
I never liked authority figures either.
“Tulip Althea Grace, you get your little behind in here and clean your room!” My Mother would scream once every month.
I would stay in there for days.
“Tulip?” A substitute teacher would call. My class all smiled. They knew what was going to happen.
“Here, Ms. Rogers!” I would call.
“I’m not Ms.Rogers, I’m Ms. Rahn,” the substitute would frown.
“I’m not Tulip, I’m Althea.” I would mimic their voice exactly. I would get in trouble, but it was worth it.
Needless to say, I never got on with the Alpha. I thought he was a boring, strict prude, and he thought I was the spawn of Satan. He was probably right.
I left the pack at nineteen.
It wasn’t that bad. I lived with humans on the land between packs. Even made some friends.
But then that arsehole waltzed in and ruined all of it.
Quick disclaimer: This is not a typical werewolf story. I’m not overly fond of writing those. So, be prepared for something a little different.
Another one: Yes, she is a ‘fiery redhead’. Yes, that is a stereotype. But guess what? I’m one too. Don’t hate me for that.
