1. First Lover
My full name is Lethana Grace Lakefield. But most people know me as the "Packwhore" or "The red slut".
And I for one, do not give two flying shits about what they call me in my back.
They're all smiles when I'm in front of them, they fear me and think I'm wild and feral, and it shows.
So what if I like sex? So what if I don't act like a prissy snob and get what I want, when I want it, how I want it?
So what If I think my well-being is just as important as a mate?
So what if I don't want to wait forever?
I have too many lovers to count and I am unapologetic about what I do.
It is who I am and it is a basic need that I do not feel like ignoring for some godforsaken bullshit, like say, your destined mate.
Before you go all Freudian on me and try to find some kind of explanation to my behavior throughout my family's history, I'll save you the trouble by saying this :
No. I do not have any daddy issues. I do not seek attention in the hands of guys because I don't have any at home.
And it certainly isn't my parents perfect relationship that made me feel like I didn't want to commit to anyone.
It is in fact, the complete opposite.
My mum and dad are sweethearts, both kindhearted and amazingly good people.
They brought up my little sister and I in the most caring environment any pup could ever hope for. We felt loved and cherished, and not a day passed by without us hearing the words 'I love you' from my mum and 'you are my little world' from my dad.
I was complimented often because of my academic performances added to my prowess in the training camps. My sister was complimented often because of her beautiful art and her sharp eye for accessories and gifts.
We were never pressured to be anything but ourselves.
We didn't cause trouble and we usually stuck to what we liked.
When I hit 15, I had my first change. Three years earlier than most females and one year earlier than all the males in the pack.
The pain was excruciating, my small human body had yet to mature fully and the change had lasted four agonizing days. I remember very little of those. Only that there was pain, and pain, and pain again.
I could still hear the echoes of my cries, the muffle sobs of my mom begging the goddess to get me though it, the panicked undertone of my dad asking the pack doctor what were the chances of me making it alive.
My wolf had golden furr, it was said that the color brought fortune and good-health to the packs who harbored it.
Soon enough, following my first shift, as the tradition dictated it, I had to leave the pack to join the Royal werewolf Academy, where I graduated with full honors with a major in tactical planning and a minor in Supernatural history.
I was drafted as a master sentinel for the Greenforest Pack in Oregon.
An interesting job with many advantages. Only four hours away from my former pack and parents, a wage three times superior then a one of a standard guard, a furnished house and access to pack facilities, limitless land to run and incredible sights in the deep forest. The choice was evident and after talking it out with my parents, the decision was made a few days later.
The first man who welcomed me in the pack was the Gamma, head of the guards and training instructor of the pack.
- Hello, Lethana, is it? He had said while going in for a handshake.
- Just Letha is fine. I said with a smile.
- I'm Jason, I'm in charge of overseeing the new recruits and the guards training. I knew we were recruiting a new sentinel, but damn, I didn't she would be this easy on the eyes! Got some time to hang out? I mean, If you want. No pressure.
- Seems like you already have your hands full. I had said, hinting at his heavy responsibilities.
- You have no idea. He said with a laugh. But I'd gladly make time to get to know the newbie. He had said while putting both his hands in his pockets. A shy, anxious gesture that I found particularly adorable.
-No funny business. I finally said with a glower.
-Not unless it's specifically asked for. He said with a boyish smile.
Jason was the kind of guy you couldn't help but notice in a crowd, not because he was buff or because he was particularly tall, but because he had an air of authority mixed to a certain charisma that made him feel like an important man. He had buzzed golden hair, sharp green eyes and a bit of scruff his square jaw. He was kind, nice and available.
And he had been my first lover.
