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Phoenix Rising

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Summary

The girl was completely abnormal from the rest of her tribe. They were all wolf shifters- Werewolves as some say. Her father was the Alpha, and her mother was the Luna of the Crescent clan. Being a Werewolf was in her genetics, but the girl was far from one. She earned a new name with eyes that shined a magnificent vivid blue- Mutated Mutt. By a twist of fate, the Shifter King shows up to the only place the girl has ever called home. He's watched her for weeks now. Studied her every move, every breath. Without a wolf inside, she couldn't feel the warning signs from a distance as he lurked deep within the forests. What happens when the Shifter King comes to take what's rightfully his by force? Then there are the hushed whispers soaring through the land of a new war brewing amongst the shifters. Outer-land Werewolf tribes forming alliances with ploys to overthrow the King and take his kingdom. Teetering between love and hate, life and death, the girl shunned by everyone might just be the only person who can save them. For the sake of her mate she will have to transcend even death itself if she wishes to save him. Will Phoenix rise to become the great warrior and leader her father always told her she was fated to be? Or will she forever bow to the men that rule her world?

Genre:
Romance / Fantasy
Author:
A.L.
Status:
Ongoing
Chapters:
11
Rating:
5.0 1 review
Age Rating:
18+

Jumbled Beginnings

The Crescent Clan’s nickname for me- Mutated Mutt, has quite the ring to it.
Although, Phoenix Obsidian was my given name.

The first sign that I was a relatively abnormal child and or ‘wolf’- my eyes.
Every wolf shifter is born with honey-colored eyes, yet mine glowed a deep ocean blue.
The human population was wiped out decades ago but to my knowledge, they were the only species that could have different colored eyes.
Were-shifters are also born with a wolf spirit inside that guides them through life. Once a Werewolf enters the puberty stage between thirteen and seventeen they finally shift into their true wolf form during the yearly blood moon.
Our tribe is the third largest across the domain so usually around fifty new wolves are transforming to run ramped each New Year.
I, however, do not have a wolf spirit inside. At least I don’t think.
Sometimes I hear a voice in my head like all of the other shifters speak of. It’s also a challenge at times to tame the wild animalistic way I feel inside similar to those in my tribe. To feel as if a true beast was lurking under the surface waiting patiently to be set free.
But at twenty years old I’ve yet to shift. Add that with my freak blue eyes and I’m quite positive it equals Wolf-less girl.
My parents, the previous Alpha, and Luna of our pack, never seemed to mind my abnormality. They both had these great warrior wolves while I just had nothing- it made no logical sense.
My mother would tell me I was a special kind of wolf, and my father would say I was just a late bloomer. Nothing more, nothing less was said about my constant unexplainable state of being.
I wasn’t ridiculed or tormented within the tribe for my oddities then. Obviously, no one would dare disrespect the Alpha’s daughter. Once they were gone though, the other shifter Werewolves in the pack treated me as if I was the shit on the bottom of their shoes.
A new kind of hell had opened its’ mouth and swallowed me whole.

I’ve been on my own since my parents crossed over to the afterlife. I was seven years old at the time and they just left me to rot alone on this god-forsaken planet.
What led up to their dreadful demise do you ask?
Well, that’s a simple question with a simple answer really.
Werewolf kind has walked the earth for many centuries, but so have the creatures of the night. Before the apocalyptic war that caused the humans’ extinction, their Romance novels and movies called them vampires painting them with hearts and souls that have the capacity to love. However, the creatures I’ve encountered are far from feeling.
We shifters call them Soul Eaters, and that’s exactly what they do. With sharp fangs that penetrate the skin, they suck the soul and essence out of any prey they seek.
Death is the only outcome a Soul Eater can provide.
Twelve years ago those creatures had tried to overthrow the supernatural order.
Who can blame them with all of that immortal time on their hands. Not to mention the accompanying never-ending hunger, the bloodthirst.
These Soul Eaters had come to seize my father’s territory and tribe amongst the many others they had already conquered. My father being the great leader and protector he was the outcome had not been what the creatures had expected.
He lost his life protecting the pack during The Great Battle Of The Night. So did my mother as she fought vigilantly by his side Inevitably leaving me to brave a world I had not yet even begun to understand.
But over the years I had grown to understand everything clearly as if it were black and white. No gray area insight.
Just simply wickedness and innocence, life and death.
Take Alpha Jack, my father’s replacement, for example. He had shown me time and time again his wicked ways. ‘Gifting’ me a spot in the unfinished basement that resembled a tiny cellar after taking away the only true home I had ever known. He had shunned me to live underneath the Omega slaves who cooked, cleaned, and tended to the tribe’s every need.
At least I had the rats who scavenged for food the same way I did to keep me company at night.
Alpha Jack thought it would be best to utilize all of my anger and hatred towards the creatures of the night. So from sun up until sundown, I trained every day from the age of seven until the age of fifteen. Then I was finally ‘awarded’ a place amongst the Crescent Gaurd.
Six out of seven days a week I rotated on a fourteen-hour shift guarding the border, and on my one ‘day off’ I was to oversee the training grounds. Something that most shifters would consider a privilege became my worst nightmare.

“Freak!” “Mutated Mutt!” “Half-breed!”
“You’ll never be a part of this tribe!”
“Your mother should have tossed you in the Wastelands for the Soul Eaters!”

Among other things, these were a few of the common phrases that would be screamed at me as I attempted to improve the clan’s fighting skills.
Not to blow my own whistle but I was probably the best fighter in the tribe skill-wise. Alpha Jack made sure of that with his training and torturous conditioning he’d put me through as a child. They all could have learned a thing or two from me that might would have been viable in battle as well as defending the territory.
Personally, I think everyone has gotten way too comfortable since my father’s victory against the Soul Eaters.
Even I, the freak, hear the passing hushed whispers of a new war waging among the shifters.
War for the title of King.

The Shifter King holds the supernatural world in his hands.
Dragons, Werewolves, and Soul-Eaters all abide by The Shifter King.
He is the only Lycan ever known to exist. Transcending into a higher being he’s able to morph his two sides into one- part wolf, part man.
He was an ally of my father’s during The Battle of Night. They say he is a sight to behold on the battlefield. The stories I’ve heard make him out to be a monstrous being, and no doubt he is feared by the shifter tribes spread out across the lands.
They say he’s over a hundred years old too, and in all that time he’s still never found his Soulmate.
Shifters are born with a pre-destined lifelong partner chosen by the moon herself. Each shifter is made for the other- made to love each other.
An otherworldly pull to an entire other being apart from yourself- like two polarized magnets.
No matter how hard you fight the Soulmate bond always wins one way or the other.
Truthfully I was pleased I didn’t have a wolf when it came down to that aspect of being a shifter. How I hear it: Mates can be the best thing that’s ever happened to you or the worst.
This only pertains to the women shifters of course. Once you’ve been claimed by a male shifter as a female shifter you’re required to submit to your ‘superior’. A lot of women are happy to give in to the Soulmate bond, and most of the time the men love and respect their mates.
Then other instances some wolves take their mates as their personal slaves while still taking other unmated partners also.
I hear it’s the most excruciating pain to suffer through- even worse than death itself.
I couldn’t imagine the agony.
It’s rumored Alpha Jack’s mate is one of the unlucky women. I’ve seen firsthand how he takes other women shifters in the tribe. Some willing, some against their will. Some mated to other wolf shifters, some not.
His mate, Lilith, had the unlucky hand dealt to her as she’s lived through that every day for the last five years.
One day he drug her outside and threw her out of the main house in a fit of rage. Everyone gathered around to watch as he publicly shamed her.
Come to find out she had secretly been taking wolfsbane capsules each day as a form of birth control. He shouted and beat her trying to get answers out of her as to where she had gotten them. Whoever gave them to her was surely to receive a death sentence.
Fearless as always she stood her ground and never spoke a word.
I felt like utter shit for weeks after. Lily was the only person in the tribe I had any sort of friendship with.
Occasionally she would sneak down to the edge of the border where I would sometimes patrol. I would train her basic defensive moves for an hour or two until she had to venture back to her own hell.
The Alpha would have my head on a pike for trying to be kind to his mate and teaching her to defend herself. Maybe that’s why Lily and I got along so well. We both held murderous whims towards our Alpha despite our biological allegiance to him.
For her, I guess it was a twisted love that turned into true hatred.
That’s why when she said she didn’t want to bear his children, that she didn’t want to create a new life with that beast- I gave her the pills.
She wanted out just as bad as I did, but this was the only home either of us ever knew. I also was under the command of Alpha Jack. Not to mention no shifter would last ten days rogue out in the wastelands. A place where the devil himself resides- the Soul Eater known as Lord Zovren, the man who killed my father.

As I stand here in the only article of clothing I own, an old raggedy blue guards jumpsuit, I stare out into the distance across the border daydreaming.
Leaning back against a big oak tree on my nightly patrol I know I’m too much of a coward to ever leave this place. Even if I had the courage my loyalty and conditioning would never let me cross the border- not until Alpha Jack was dead at least.
This tree used to be my happy place. Somewhere I could hide away from everyone else and just breathe. Lately, it’s become my place of curiosity. Wonders of what’s all really out there and what the different lands really even look like.
Although there’s this anxious feeling that’s bugged me for weeks churning around in the pit of my stomach.
It’s as if I can feel someone watching me from some deep dark corner of the forest.
Hiding, waiting.

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