Ages ago, the moon goddess created man, then she created beast and combined them together. The moon goddess watched over her children and soon found that evil resided within many of their hearts; the beast was too much. The beast often tried to overpower man, and on most occasions, they won. Rogues. That was what the goddess had named them, beast more than man. The goddess cried to her lover Apollo to fix her mistake; to kill her creations, but he did not. Instead, Apollo sent the will of fire into the hearts of the untamed, and so the hidden pack of Black Rain was created.

Those from the hidden pack were men who could over power their beasts, men created to protect those who could not protect themselves. Henry Power was the first to achieve this. Though, Henry was more beast than man, but that's what set him apart from the others. His beast like features and larger frame seemed to intimidate others. It was on the night of his first shift that the moon goddess named this new species; a lycan. This beast was different than others, he had control, his strength greater, his height surpassing any beast he came in contact with. His form radiated power. From that moment forward, Henry Power became known as the Father of Lycans, the man who later created the Power Pack. The royal pack in which every pack feared.

Well...all except one

But that pack no longer existed.

My Alpha had told me this story many times as a child. The day he found me in the woods, bruises covering my form, my body dehydrated and starved. He told me that I was special like Henry, that all the strong wolves found their way towards the hidden pack. He said it was Apollo who chose my destiny at birth. Of course I was no lycan royal, but warriors of the Blackrain Pack were a myth to the werewolf world. We were the stories parents told their children when they were afraid to sleep. We were all guided here to train, to become stronger, to protect our own against those who were not strong enough to fight their inner beast.

"Alex! Pay attention," Ben yells to the left of me, "I have twenty dollars on you." I simply smirked at the red-haired boy. He had kind eyes, the kind you would never expect to see so much horror and gore. He had a boyish smile to match that innocent look he wore so well, and yet, he was the furthest from it.

My attention goes back to the rogue. Sweat drips from the side of his forehead as his arm wavers, not wanting to lose our little game. It was simple. Pin my arm down, and he was free. But if I pinned his down, he'd rot in the cellar until we were bored and wanted to try new interrogation tricks on him. Though, we all knew how this would end, no one ever beat me in an arm wrestling match.

Soon, the splinters of wood sprayed at us as my men cheered and laughed seeing the distraught face of the unknown wolf. Many were smart enough not to try and dig into the secret of the Black Rain pack, but he was stupid. 

A fool really.

The fight at Gold Moon Pack was long and tedious, a brutal battle if we're being completely honest. We moved in our signature black uniforms, killing the enemy, helping our people as Apollo had taught us too, and there he was, star struck. I understood it, but it was a foolish thing to do, to try and follow us back to our pack. We had known all along he had been tailing us, and though we watched out for our kind, we were known to be vicious. So we let him follow, knowing the outcome. 

He moved solemnly towards the cells where two of my men guided him. Now that play time was over, I moved over to my post, then checking in with all of those who were on patrol. Everything seemed to be running smoothly as every wolf on patrol send me a nod and continued to keep watch. It had taken me a while to earn the respect of my peers. Before I had come along, the Blackrain pack only held males. Then Apollo chose my destiny to wind up here, the small crescent between my brows further proved it. It was a symbol, it showed that this was my rightful place. This was where I had to be, because the goddess and her lover had said so.

It was a lonely life before I had joined.

Life at the Blackrain Pack was simple. We wake up, we train, we help others, we sleep. It all sounded so simple, four easy steps and once bone and death is left, we rest with the gods above. Of course none of us knew if that was true, but its what elder Erik had always told us. The elders of the council always told us of our worth, of our cause, the reason we live and fight for our kind. Against our kind. 

Some days I wondered about if my life we different. If I were the girl with the happy family, the girl who would find her mate at 16 and run off into the sunset. I wanted it some days. I wanted to find my mate, to find some one to care for me. To have the big family who cares for each other. Even on my happiest days, my worst days seem to cloud my mind. 

"The pack hall, now." My feet stop at the command and move accordingly towards my new destination.  Blurs of brown and red furs rush past me as I near the pack hall. 
 

Backs stood erect as I entered from the west door, lines of built men stand side-by-side awaiting the next command from our Alpha. I move quickly beside Ronin, his head angled slightly to take me in. My eyes left his, drifting ahead towards Samuel. I could see it before he spoke, his tense arms, the fists at his side, whatever he was about to say, it wouldn't be good.

He cleared his throat, "I am afraid that our source from the south were correct, "the room grew tense at his words, "the council has informed me that the threat of the rogues has grown increasingly in the north." He pauses momentarily, taking in our expressions, "As you all know, we have always been in a battle against rogues, but the council fears they are getting stronger. They have created a pack of their own, the leader is unknown and is considered to be a level 4 threat," my body stilled.

In the beginning of training, we were taught how to handle every situation, whether it be rogues, witches, vampires, or whatever the hell the gods created. We were taught different methods, different levels of possible genocide. We had been to level 3 before, in the fight against the Warzone Pack, but that was before my time. I shiver at the name. Saying that name is like saying Macbeth in the theatre. A level four meant that this threat would have to be neutralized immediately, though many of our own will likely die. 

"Settle down," the murmurs filling the room turned hush whispers, "the council and I have decided that our best decision is to head north," the voices of our pack began filling the room again, "Alpha Rush will be giving us shelter, I expect everyone to be ready by dawn". 

8/10/22