Running With the Pack

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Chapter 3

I am speeding.

If this road to my house was busier with cops on every corner, I would have been pulled over at least five times by now.

But I have to speed. I have to get home as quickly as I can.

I was in the library with Margaret studying and Victoria was hovering at the end of the table when I felt the first signs of the change. It is like I am wearing braces that were just tightened. My teeth ache from movement and the hair on my arms thickens. Luckily, since it is still September, I have some time before the sun goes beyond the horizon.

As soon as those first pains hit, I rose from my chair so fast that I knocked it over. I could tell that Margaret and Victoria felt something similar since they also rose quite suddenly. Victoria snarled at me and basically grabbed Margaret by the scruff of her neck to yank her away from me. The look in Margaret’s eyes was a mix of concern and fear. We have developed a friendship over these weeks even with the hovering Beta and Margaret’s sister, Carly. Her concern was for my feelings, but the fear was for what I might do as a Rogue.

I had quickly stuffed my papers and laptop into my bag and raced out the door to my car.

And so here I am, speeding down the highway to get to my house and eat something filling to help my beast last the night without feeding. That was one thing my dad and I noticed; if I fed well beforehand, typically red meats, my beast would be less ravenous and would be more content in the cage for the night.

The turn to the gravel road that leads to my house approaches so quickly that I almost miss it and my car nearly swerves as I sharply slow down and turn. I do not slow down on the gravel path, however, as it is nearly 5 pm and that steak in my fridge is not going to cook itself.

I park my car, take out my stuff and as I am racing to my front door, I lock it with the remote.

I do not bother putting my stuff away nicely. Instead, I throw it on my couch along with the jacket I was wearing and head to the kitchen.

Since I need to eat a lot of food, I do not bother making sure that it is some fancy gourmet meal of marinated steak with perfectly seasoned potatoes and an artisan salad. What I do is turn on the stove and on it, I place a frying pan, put a pot of water on another element, and grab a carrot stick from the vegetable drawer in my fridge. As I munch on the carrot, I take out nugget potatoes and haphazardly chop them, and then dump them in the heating water. Then I take the steak out of the fridge, rip open the package, and start searing it. One thing that I do not need to worry about is the temperature of the meat since the beast in me enjoys the rarest of meat, searing it only helps it go down easier.

I wash my hands and continue munching on my carrot while keeping an eye on the steak.

I wonder if born Werewolves need to prepare for the Change as much as the Bitten do? Do they allow themselves to hunt wildlife in the night and risk being seen? Or worse, do they risk losing control and harming someone? Is losing control something they need to worry about?

The smoke coming from the edges of the steak on the pan tells me it is ready to be flipped and once I have done so I take out a plate. I do not both with a fork and knife, it is not like anyone will see me wolfing down the meat anyway, why bother taking the extra time to cut it.

The smell of meat causes my mouth to water and I lick my lips in anticipation. As my tongue goes over my teeth I yelp in pain.

My teeth are no longer the teeth of humans, but they are wolf teeth; sharp, pointy canines that can tear through flesh. I still have time for my food, but I will need to rush to get in the cage in time for the full change.

As I am reaching to pull the steak from the heat, I catch a glimpse of my arms, the hair has gotten darker and thicker, pretty soon it will start lengthening to at least triple the current state. My body temperature has also heightened in preparation for the change. Sometimes it feels like I am getting the flu with the fever that takes over my body.

I tear into the meat, my canines making the effect minimal and in no time I have finished it.

As I wait for the potatoes to finish, I begin stripping. This is my favourite bra and pants, after all, I do not want to wreck them once my body starts morphing and growing. Once they are finished, I eat them hot, not bothering to even drain the water first, I take them out with a fork. The heat does not bother me, not during the change, everything hurts too much for me to care.

With the food finished and my clothing stripped off I lock my door and go to the cage in my bedroom. Just as I finish locking the mechanism, the first of the vertebrae in my spine begin rearranging.

I hate this part. A scream of agony rips from the depths of my soul as my body contorts on the ground, bones all through my torso adjusting to form the body of the beast. I do not understand why or how, but I always manage to remain awake, almost through the whole change I am in a consciousness state. I feel my ribs adjusting as my spine elongates and a tail stretches out behind me.

My fingers grow in size and claws tear through the skin where my polished nails used to be.

As my femurs and fibulas crack and fracture, my kneecaps shatter completely. My dad told me that this was the worst part to witness. He said it looks like beetles were crawling under my skin moments before my legs bend backward and the skin turns purple at the free-flowing blood beneath its surface. My feet grow and my toes gain claws similar to those on my hands.

The pain is too much. I let a pain-filled, sorrowful howl that fills my room and causes the birds in the trees surrounding my house to flutter off in fear. As the last notes of the howl die, my world goes dark.

The first thing I feel when I wake up in a cold sweat covering my body. Even the hair on my head is damp. The light shining through my window warms my skin and makes me see red behind my eyelids.

I slowly peel my eyes open and have to squint at the light as I sit up. My head is throbbing and there is tension in my shoulders. I press my fingers into my temples lightly to help with the throbbing and roll my shoulders at the same time. As my eyes finally adjust to the morning light, I look at the time and feel a rush of nerves flutter through my body.

I’m gonna be late!

I stretch through the bars to reach the key to the lock and burst through the opening. I do not even have time to shower and wash away the post-change sweats, I simply throw on underwear, socks, jeans, a sports bra, and a hoodie before tossing my still damp-from-sweat hair into a low bun. I grab my backpack and jean jacket from the couch and a premade smoothie from the fridge before racing to my car.

Looks like I am going to be speeding again. I hope the roads are as clear as they were last night.


this is mainly a filler chapter to give an idea of what she goes through every change. Quickly written and not really edited.

Thanks for reading :)

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