I struggled against the guard’s grip as they dragged me towards the edge of the pack territory where my Alpha was standing. Tears were falling down my cheeks. I knew this was going to happen, I could feel them growing tired of me. They didn’t know what to do with me anymore, so they were throwing me out of the pack. Having lost my parents 13 years ago, I ended up having to become the pack slave to them, it was bound to happen.
Being here was horrible but the thought of being out there was horrifying. Here I knew what was going to happen, out there nobody knows. It a whole other world.
Just to add onto everything, I still hadn’t shifted. Most werewolves shift at the age of 14. I’m 18 and still haven’t seen or heard anything from my wolf. I was completely defenceless. The wolves in my pack call me human, I don’t have the strength that their wolves give them neither do I heal as fast as a werewolf. As a result, bruises littered my body.
My parents had both died in a rogue attack when I was younger, they were caught off guard and were immediately killed. They were both adored by the whole pack and the pack never knew how to deal with it. My dad was best warrior the pack had ever had and my mum helped around the pack a lot. They started to blame me for their death as a way to cope with it. That came with a few repercussions.
I haven’t spoken a word since that attack. I always just felt that there was no bother in speaking if nobody was going to listen. The only people that truly cared for me were gone.
And now, they finally seem to want to get rid of me. They could have easily killed me themselves but they knew that I would stand no chance against the rogues that lurked around the outside of the pack borders. They knew that my last hours of life would be spent in fear.
All I wish is that they would send me out with a pack of cookies.